


The Courting

by SeradeBlack



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed, Cursed and Not Cursed, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance, Sensual Play, Slow Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeradeBlack/pseuds/SeradeBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Library" True Love's Kiss has broken Rumplestiltskin and Belle's curse, but the rest of Storybrooke remains under the influence. They mask as Mr. Gold and Anna French, while their love affair flourishes in others' day to day events. Gold remains on track to find Bae, brings magic to Storybrooke and court Belle properly.  Events may occur out of canon sequence (Graham dies later, Ashley's pregnancy, etc...).</p><p>Under the curse, Anna French was engaged to Leo (Gaston), but has broken it off to pursue the relationship with Mr. Gold, picking up where they left off (in the Enchanted Forest).  However, Leo, still cursed, isn't so much of a threat, but still remains the ex-boyfriend unable to see that Anna has chosen the better man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A note from Serade Black: I got an overwhelming response to my first Rumbelle story, which I brought upon myself to continue. As my story is already AU, please be aware there shall be spoilers up until the night of the series airing, along with certain events happening out of sequence.

The Courtship

 

Ch. 1

The world was anew. Small sounds of tiny explosions could be heard just outside the windows of the two-story pink mansion that sat at the end of the road. The moon was bright in the sky, casting just enough light through the windows as the surrounding candles dimmed low. The fire crackled before them, allowing the burning wood and shifting embers to adjust themselves as the heat intensified. A new log was just put on the fire, so the roar was just finding its rhythm.

The town square was sure to be alive. A living, breathing organism of its own consisting of cheers, song, drink, small sparklers, children running around free together, scarves tightened and laughter filling the ears of everyone around. A new year was before them, new adventures at every turn, but still lost within themselves and lost without their true identity.

Mr. Gold lounged in the far corner of his couch; his socked feet were propped up on his coffee table. His cigar long forgotten and his glass of brandy half empty and sitting on a coaster. Tucked under his left arm was a beautiful brunette with chestnut waves and she was curled as close to him as she could get. Her head rested against his chest and the hand that wasn't burrowed under her interlaced and released his fingers with hers over and over again. Both of them sighed contently, as if the end of a particular long endeavor had finally come to an end and peace could be found. The T. V. was off and the two of them just stared into the flames of the fire burning in the room with them.

Belle sighed, "I suppose I should break up with Leo."

"Yes, I suppose you should," he said with a calm air in his voice and not an arrogant "matter of fact" sound like the old Rumplestiltskin. "Should have done that, anyway."

"Well, I was cursed, now, wasn't I?" she added, looking up to better see his face.

"That will be everyone's excuse. Like, when Charming finds out his wife slept with Whale."

"Katherine slept with Dr. Whale?"

"No, Snow," he cleared up, looking down at his pretty girl. He lifted a finger to slide over the outline of her perfect nose.

"Oh, right, the curse," Belle said and readjusted herself to watch the fire with him. She snuggled a little bit closer to him, if it was possible. "So, who is Dr. Whale?"

"Frankenstein."

She tensed and sat up again, this time better to see him completely, "The monster?" She looked frightened, terrified, but Mr. Gold hushed her with a soothing hand to her cheek.

He shook his head, "No, the maker. The doctor, not the beast. I'm the only beast in this town." He couldn't help but give her a sly smile, almost mischievous. His gold tooth peeked behind his lips.

Relieved, Belle leaned in closer leaving her lips only inches away from his. Her blue eyes stared him down, seductive and hopeful. "You're not a beast or a monster." Closing the space between them, she placed a soft kiss upon his lips. He was absolutely still under her touch, as if fearful she'd run off if he made any movement. So, as she fed into his submissive behavior, she pressed on brazenly. "Do me a favor, Rumple?"

"Anything," he whispered against her lips, resting his hands on her hips as she shifted herself on top of him, straddling his lap. He could barely believe that she was there with him, in the flesh, showing him the affection she was.

"Don't ever send me away, again," she whispered back into their kiss.

She found it very difficult to get enough of him, enough of his taste, enough of his breath against her skin as they gently lapped their tongues together in a silent song their hearts knew so well. Too many years apart and so many truths left unsaid, left them vulnerable to fragile human emotions.

Her desperate words stung him, forcing him to break their kiss. He pushed her only a few inches back, enough so that she could see his face and the absolute truth in his eyes when he said, "Never again, Belle. Never again."

The Beauty always saw the good in her Beast, so Belle saw the honesty in Rumplestiltskin. Though hurt with the overall dismay displayed on his face, she was assured that he was sincere in his promise. A misunderstanding, a cowardly move and the fear of allowing himself to be loved was all in the past, because now they could start anew together. They could be together, like they both wanted: Belle and Rumplestiltskin when together and Anna and Mr. Gold to the outside world.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The weather outside was pleasant on that bright cool day. Mr. Gold's pawnshop hadn't many visitors that afternoon, so it was time to go over some inventory he had long overlooked the past few months. Something in particular that he believed needed a very good polishing was the genie lamp that once harbored Queen Regina's beloved husband killer.

He was just sliding the glass panel of his display case open when the little bell over his front door jingled pleasantly. His eyes peered over the counter to see his visitor, and smiled when he was graced with the heavenly vision of his favorite brunette wearing a long sleeved blue dress with short ankle boots. She shut the door a little harder than necessary and Mr. Gold watched as her swift determined steps made their way towards him.

"I do hope you don't break my little bell, Belle," he said with a half grin and cheek as he took out the object and set it carefully down on top of the counter.

He had just flicked out a rag and taken the lid off the polishing solution he was preparing to use, when he noticed his beauty wasn't smiling. Her concentrated and determined look followed her actions as she quite urgently made her way to him. It was clear that it wasn't anger that harbored over her, once she let a tiny smirk sneak away. She moved her way around the counter, reached for his right arm and dragged him with her beyond the curtain that hid his office. Once out of the public view, she spun around and pressed her body up against his, tangling her fingers into his hair and laying on a kiss that nearly rendered him boneless.

He welcomed her advances, allowing her to walk him backwards so that he was leaning against his own desk seeing as the young woman had deprived him of his cane in her haste. Once balanced, he wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her in tighter, allowing Belle to stake her claim on his mouth. Like a harlot on the docks, she worked herself onto him, sliding her tongue between this lips and nipping his lower lip between her teeth, eliciting soft growls from the back of his throat. Her affections intensified, igniting a simmering burn deep in his loins, much like waking a sleeping dragon.

"My darling Belle," he whispered, entranced by her dominance, "whatever has gotten into you?" He felt her fingers curl into his hair, scratching his scalp and he drank in her mouth like a man who hadn't drunk for days. "Mind you, I'm not complaining," he said with a breathy voice.

Finally, Belle slowed down her kisses, slowly breaking them up and giving short sweet ones as she said, "I'm officially a free woman." With one last kiss against his soft lips, she pulled away, "I broke it all off with Leo."

The final weight of him sat down on his desk, after leaning on it, relieving some of the pressure on his leg. Their moment together had been epic, gaining speed with Belle's advances, feeling out the emotional crescendo and slowly coming back down to be grounded. Hearing her words had sealed their deal to resume being together, as she once promised forever so many years ago, and it made him feel worthy and important to such a blessing.

He raised a hand to cup her cheek, cherishing her sweet face in his palm as he added, "But, now you're with the Dark One."

Belle only smiled; her eyes blue and honest as she met his darker brown ones. With a slight tilt of her head, as if she'd only just discovered something, she added, "So be it." Another full smile and light kiss had her following with, "The heart wants what the heart wants."

This warmed his old dark heart to a new temperature, wanting desperately to lock this woman up and never let her out of his sight again. He would protect her from the world, the curse, Regina, her father, and fate to keep her safe and close. He relished their touching, wishing his entire day could be spent being fawned upon by his pretty young companion. Alas, their reality was the aura around them, and he could not lock her away, nor could he keep her away from Storybrooke. Instead, he would settle for the passion she harbored for him, allowing her to take any liberties she desired.

Belle stood close to him as he was practically seated on top of his desk. With one arm around his neck and her palm against his chest, she smoothed out his tie, touching him up from her ravishing. He let her preen him for as long as she allowed him to keep his arm around her waist.

As her fingers swept over his face, pushing his hair away from his eyes he said, "I have a gift for you."

"A gift?" she asked inquisitively. Mr. Gold reached behind him on his desk and picked up a small box with a ribbon tied around it. Reaching for her hand, he placed the little box in her open palm. Her eyes flashed to his, accompanied by a hesitant grin. Very carefully, she untied the ribbon and opened the lid in front of him, keeping close in his space. Inside was a very small key and attached to it was a little tab that said, "Library". She bit her lower lip and met his dark brown eyes with her sparkling blue ones as she asked, "Is this a key to your house?"

Giving his head a light shake, he patted the pocket of his lapel and said, "No, that's in this pocket." He offered her a crooked smile, "This is a key to something much bigger."

"The library?" she queried, but her smile feigned as elation took over. Mr. Gold nodded just once as she comprehended the magnitude of his gift. "You got me the key to the library? You're giving me an entire library?"

"I made some calls," he began to explain as both his arms were now circled around her. "Turns out, they'll be looking for a librarian soon."

The weight of his words slowly melted into her like chocolate on the tongue. Her eyes grew larger and once again, she bit that delicious lower lip. "And I'm sure you've already put in a good word for me?"

"I had nothing good to say about you. Never even mentioned you in the slightest," he said, dropping his arms and standing up from his desk. Very carefully, he limped passed her in search of his cane, knowing that he had left a curious woman in his wake.

"Rumple..."

He stopped before disappearing behind his curtain and turned around, pulling a card from his lapel pocket. His fingers held it out, as if dangling a string in front of a cat. "They'll be expecting your call, madam."

She plucked the card from his fingers and gave him a quick kiss as payment, leaving the store much giddier than when she came in. The little bell jingled a little bit friendlier, this time.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Belle, Anna to everyone else, was walking down the sidewalk towards the pawn shop. She hugged the strap of her messenger bag tightly to her chest, ducking her head from the crisp chilly wind cutting through anyplace it could sneak into her coat. Granny's was within stepping distance and she felt that a nice hot tea and a red rose would brighten his day.

She quickly stepped inside of the local diner, shaking the cold off of her like a dog jumping out of a bathtub and walked up to the front counter. Ruby was busy twirling about and taking orders, while her grandmother manned the cashier's post.

"Afternoon, Anna," Granny said with a stiff and stern smile. "Just one today?"

"Ah, no, I'm just here to order a couple of hot teas to-go, please," she said, unzipping her jacket to let herself breathe while in the comforts of the warm restaurant.

"I'll get them, Granny!" Ruby shouted over her shoulder as she stood in front of seated customers with her note pad in hand, furiously jotting down orders.

"I guess Ruby will be getting those for you," Granny obliged with a suspicious grin, as if impressed her granddaughter could hear her order so well.

Belle prepaid for her teas and sat down at a nearby table to wait. It only seemed to be a few minutes before Ruby was nearly flying out from behind the counter, the string of the tea bag still dangling outside of the cups and setting down in front of Belle. With a few minutes to spare, Ruby slipped into the chair opposite her friend and grinned a perfect smile with red lips and dark eyelashes, moving in on her like a wolf on the hunt teasing her prey.

"So, when were you going to tell me you broke it off with Leo?" Ruby asked as she rested her chin on her wrist, ready for her friend to dish. Belle was immediately caught off guard, not ready to answer for that, yet. Still, Ruby's eyebrows rose and she waited patiently for an answer.

Slightly nervous, she replied, "Ruby, it's only been a week. I haven't really seen you and it's not really something I would just text."

"Yes, it would be. You can text anything!" she said with enthusiasm, as if it were the only mode of communication these days. "So, why did you ditch, Leo?"

"Is that what he's saying? That I ditched him?"

"Well, not those words, but they're my words. I guess I should have thought something was up when you ditched me on New Year's Eve so quickly-"

"I didn't ditch you, Ruby," Belle was quick to add. She didn't want to send the wrong message to her closest friend. "I just had somewhere to be."

Ruby gave her a suspicious hum, like she didn't believe her and continued, "So, why did you dump him?" Ruby was hell-bent on getting it out of her and paid no attention to the grill cook who was calling her name for an order that was ready. After his third catcall, Ruby rolled her eyes and said, "Be right back!" In seconds, she had collected her food, delivered it, cashed a check out with Granny and was back sitting with her at the little table where her two covered hot teas sat simmering. "So, again, why no more, Leo?"

Belle tried to put what the truth was is the simplest of words, but considered it wasn't going to be very easy to explain. "We just weren't meant to be, Ruby. That's all. He's more about hanging out with his guy friends and doing keg stands than being something just with me."

"There's more..." Ruby tried to pull out, licking her wolf-like lips with the tip of her tongue, waiting for a juicy tidbit.

"No, there isn't, really. I truly wasn't that fond of him and that's about it. I'm good, now. Finding my own way."

"And you're not seeing anyone else, right now?"

Glancing around the room, she replied, "I can't say, right now, Ruby. It's still very, very new."

Ruby considered her and gave a quick look around the diner to make sure no one was eavesdropping, well other than Granny. "Know what I think?" she asked, leaning in closer to Belle.

"What do you think?" she replied, leaning in to share the secret.

"I think you're secretly seeing Mr. Gold and didn't want to tell Leo about it, because he'd flip."

Belle felt her stomach flip and her cheeks warm, "What makes you say that?"

"Because," she said as she stood, up, believing she was right, "I saw the way he looked at you that night here in the diner." Ruby pointed a finger to her friend, nearly touching her nose, but assuming just the same. "And don't you deny it, because I saw the puppy dog look you shared with him, as well." Ruby stood up, waiting for a reaction, but when Belle was silent she leaned back down again, letting her long ponytail fall forward, "Nice try, Anna. Don't worry; your secret is safe with me."

"Ruby," Belle begged, offering a last chance to sway her friend's mind, but conceded with a smile. "Thank you."

Smiling big, her closed mouth with red lips reminded Belle of the storybook Cheshire Cat, Ruby pushed in her chair and said, "No problem. The heart wants what the heart wants. Better get that hot tea to him, before it gets cold."

Belle returned the smile, feeling better about her new transition and stood up with her two teas. With a slight nod from Granny, believing that she was privy to the same information as Ruby, Belle left the diner and was back on the sidewalk for the brief chilly journey to the pawn shop.

It was going to be some amazing balancing feat to keep the teas from tumbling to the ground had Emma not opened the door from the inside of the shop. The local sheriff was just on her way out, pocketing what appeared to be an antique gold watch with a long chain, as she held the door open for her. Once inside and the women had said their pleasantries when passing, Belle walked up to the counter where Mr. Gold stood. He was just tucking in a name card back into his card catalogue next to him. As she set down the two teas, Belle peeked around to see that the name card was blank and gave him an inquisitive glance.

"It's all part of the plan, sweetheart," he said simply, closing the small drawer in front of her with a push of his finger. "You brought me tea?"

"I did," she said while sliding her bag off her shoulder and unzipping her coat. Once free, she leaned over the counter and offered herself to him, awaiting a much deserved kiss. "What did Emma want?"

Removing the lid of his tea and discarding it in the trash behind him, he replied, "She's looking for a father of two children she's come across. Hansel and Gretel to be exact."

Belle gave him a look over her shoulder as if teased with the storytelling and set off to perform her weekly flower ritual at the front of the shop. Seeing as their relationship was still unknown to the rest of the town, it was best to keep up her ruse in order to see him in his shop frequently. She clipped the leaves away, perfecting its bloom and sliding the rose into the slender vase that she had finally recognized as the one from his Dark Castle.

"So, I start on Monday," Belle said, glancing in his direction as he made his way along the counter to stand across from her; his cane thumped along the floor.

"Wonderful, dearie," he said with a cool smoldering voice, as if proud of his results and sipped his tea as he eyed her carefully. She was still a beauty to behold, even in this uncivilized world.

"They didn't even mention the fact that you probably threatened to double their rent if they didn't use me," she chided with a nibble of her lower lip.

Looking somewhat surprised, "Are they saying that? Because, I didn't do anything of the sort! I can now, if they are spreading rumors about-"

Belle lifted her hands to his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss, assuring him she was only teasing. Her fingers fell to his tie once they pulled away, Mr. Gold now pacified, "I'm only joking. They didn't say a word."

He sighed, taking her in and relishing their little interlude, "Good thing, then."

"I have one request," she said, evading his attempt for another kiss. Her fingers still gripped his tie, believing she would have the upper hand, if she was able to keep him at bay.

Poised and ready, not sure if he wanted to agree, he pressed on, "And what is that?"

She adjusted his tie, smoothing down any creases she may have caused as she explained, "Every night at the end of my shift, you come over and walk me home." Mr. Gold gave her an uneasy look, somewhat hesitant to agree. "Because, I'm moving into the apartment above the building." He perked up. "It's for the caretaker of the library and now I'll be in skipping distance of you during the day."

His repulsion of having to walk her home to her father's house was not something he cared to do, but the idea of her living on her own made things much easier. Darker thoughts invaded his mind and he was unable to turn his frown into a slightly sinister smirk, shadowing a glimpse of what he was in their old land.

"My dear, the idea of you skipping to me, well, it sends a sensation through this old body that I probably shouldn't be feeling."

Belle met his smirk and replied somewhat demure, "Perhaps that's the message I'm trying to send?"

Mr. Gold's immortal heart fluttered in his chest as if he were a young boy again with his crush nearby, only his crush had turned out to be his very determined True Love. How their universes could collide when the Fates had seen him as nothing but something to cast away, was beyond him. Still, she stood before him, the most beautiful woman in Storybrooke or even of their land, all the Princess she could be in mind, body and soul and she wanted nothing more than to fix his tie and run her fingers to the tips of his brown-graying hair.


	2. Chapter 2

CH 2

It was crisp and cold in the evening air. Very light snow flurries were carried passed the faces of the night walkers, but barely touching the ground before evaporating. There hadn't been a good snow the entire winter, so it was only a matter of time before the news started to warn them otherwise. You could feel it in the air.

The closing hour was upon him and Mr. Gold's Pawnshop was just getting its lights turned off and its front door locked. Mr. Gold pocketed his keys, tucked his scarf a little tighter and began the one block walk to the building on the corner.

It had been a month's long project with Belle, Anna to the rest of the town, to catalogue and organize the neglected library. Much like working in Mr. Gold's home, she had equipped an organizational method that, without public computers, was fine the old fashioned way. She had a manual card catalogue she updated and had plans on organizing the place on her own. The budget was limited on hiring an extra person, so for now, Belle would handle everything on her own. It was all a labor of love in her eyes.

That morning had started out as a wonderful day. After a month's long effort, it was the first day, for as long as Storybrooke residents could remember that the library was re-opening. The little local paper, The Mirror, was covering the story for the front page, complete with a gaggle of young students from Mary Margaret's class to be the first to walk inside. Several townsfolk were standing by, excited to see the newest addition, as Granny served complimentary donuts and coffee outside from a nearby table. The mayor, Regina Mills stood by watching; a faux grin across her lips that looked both pleasing and sinister.

Towards the back of the crowd, behind the school children, beyond Mayor Mills, behind Sydney Glass and after the local townsfolk, Mr. Gold stood quiet and reserved. Observing the early day's events from across the street, he spoke to no one and kept to himself. He leaned against his cane before him in a long black coat, scarf, gloves and sunglasses. He nearly went unnoticed, just a face in the crowd, until his beloved Belle looked up from across the way. Her eyes scanned through the crowd and finally they settled on him. They shared a silent exchange between the distance and with a sweet smile, raised two fingers to her lips and sent him a subtle kiss.

He was too entranced by his Beauty to notice Moe French walking up slowly to his right side like a frightened timid animal. There was no other way to redirect his attention, so the florist cleared his throat to make him known.

"Mr. French, yes what is it?" he asked, busying himself with the cuffs of his gloves as his True Love's father was requesting his time.

"Ah, yes," he said nervously. For a larger man than Mr. Gold, he seemed to be able to shrink to the size of a small barn mouse. "I just wanted to let you know," he cleared his throat again, "that I might be a little behind on the rent this month. You see-"

"And why is that, Mr. French?" Mr. Gold asked, now turning all of his attention to him and repositioning his cane with a loud thud on the pavement.

"Well, since Anna left, I've been very behind and I haven't been able to take in as many deliveries as I normally do this time of year. I'll only need a few extra days."

"Mr. French, I'm never one to allow any sort of leniency," Mr. Gold declared, glancing back to the library doors that were now open and allowing people to pass through. "However, your daughter did me a great service in my home and since this is her big day, I will grant this one time allowance."

"Thank you, Mr. Gold. Thank you!" Moe French said, stuttering like a small child.

"No later than a week, or my assistant will take care of the van for you."

Moe French said no more, he merely nodded and turned to quickly step away enroute towards the library. Mr. Gold remained where he was, not interested in mingling with many of the residents around him and carried on towards his own shop, preparing to open for the day. He would make his absence up to Belle later that evening.

The evening was quite brisk that night, chilly even; the sun had set within the hour. Mr. Gold made his way down the block, his cane thudding heavily on the ground announcing his presence to the silent street. He rounded on the library with the tall windows along the side of the building that let out the light from the inside. He reached for the handle and stepped inside.

He took in the smell of old pages, reminding him of the manuscripts he used to pour himself over back in his castle up in his work tower. It was warmer inside and the radiator just ticked on to balance the temperature as he stepped further inside. A little circulation desk was directly to the right upon entering and already it was littered with a stack of books that were obviously pulled out for her own perusal. He smirked to himself that this job was going to be the death of her, if she didn't pace herself.

"Hi!" the sweet voice called from his left. Mr. Gold turned around just in time to catch her bustling quickly passed him, setting down a stack of books she carried carefully in her arms like a cradled infant. Once the stack was settled and she could easily remove her hands, only hoping that her books wouldn't tumble across the table like a lost game of Jenga, she whirled around where she stood. Flashing him a bright smile, her eyes practically twinkled as she greeted him properly.

"Hello, Miss Librarian," he replied in a sultry low voice, keen on the affection she was giving him with soft kisses. As she nuzzled her nose with his sweetly, he whispered, "You know, Belle, you will have to learn some self-discipline."

"Hush, you," she chirped, kissing him once again to better distract him before she pulled away and smoothed down his tie.

Composing himself from his moment, Mr. Gold cleared his throat, shook out his shoulders and straightened himself out from the seductive haze she left him in. He took a few extra steps into the foyer as she busied herself again with her stack, taking in the new surroundings and appraising the place as the safe haven it was intended to be. As his eyes scanned over the linoleum floors, to the shelves and up to the artificial lighting, he couldn't help but feel so at peace with his Belle nearby. Her aura was enchanting, her scent was intoxicating and the gentle hum of her breath as she searched and cooed over a new literal discovery was enough for him. He watched as the pretty brunette revisited the circulation cart to collect books like a little butterfly looking for nectar, pushing the runaway wisps that framed her face. The scent of the aged pages still resurrected memories of his past life and as Belle busied herself around him, he could almost picture the two of them alone in his castle that probably sat in rubble.

He sighed contently to himself and asked aloud, "So, your first day was good, I take it?"

"It was wonderful!" she replied with excitement from two rows over. "The kids were amazing. They loved all the activities I had set up for them on the little tables and it was just so thrilling to watch," she came back to her circulation shelf, collecting a few extra books. "Don't worry," she winked, "I won't tell anyone that was your idea."

Mr. Gold nodded, pleased to know his secret soft spot for children would be safe with her, "So, I've come here to take you out to dinner."

Upon her disappearance behind another row, the clicking of her heels stopped abruptly and she threw herself in quick reverse. Still hugging books to her chest, she peered behind a row to see him standing in the aisle. "You mean, to a restaurant?" Mr. Gold merely nodded. Belle reversed her steps all the way and set her books down on the closest shelf she could as she slowly rounded on her older boyfriend. "Like a real restaurant...in Storybrooke?" He nodded again, repositioning his hands on the top of his cane, practically looking bored by her questioning. "Out in public?" This time he just raised his chin and tilted his head; his grey brown locks fell around his face like a schoolboy. She nibbled on her lower lip and smiled, "You're ready? You think we're ready to go public with us?"

He gave a mischievous smirk to assure her and said, "I think we've waited long enough for it to not seem too sudden." Nodding her head, Belle quickly whirled around to the back of the circulation desk to retrieve her purse and push in her chair. "Just one question, dearie," he asked, flourishing his fingers in an all too familiar manner. Belle looked up as she slid the strap of her bag over her shoulder as he pointed to the bouquet of flowers that sat in a crystal vase on her desk, "Who got you those?"

Belle looked away and sighed, "They came from Leo."

"Throw them out," he was quick to respond.

"No! Rumple, they're just flowers!"

"Throw them away, Belle," he repeated and retreated to the stern Mr. Gold that would not take 'no' for an answer.

Seeing the inner torment the gesture had caused, Belle walked back in front of him to speak to him rationally. Sadly, he wouldn't meet her eyes as she approached. Her intimidating beast bowed his head to her, making his words more of a request, rather a demand of her. Seeing the wounded animal quietly hearing his own voice, Belle shook her head and rested her hand over the pocket of his jacket, where his heart beat beneath.

"Rumple, they're just flowers. They don't mean anything. You have my word."

"They mean-"

"Shh," she said, holding a finger to his lips, taming the beast as best she could. "He got them for me with a heavy heart. They do not mean what you think they do." Her small sweet sincere smile seemed to reassure him, but he still remained stubborn like a child, or in this case, a jealous man. "I'm not Anna, anymore, Rumple. I am Belle and Belle loves Rumplestiltskin. There's no changing that."

She was a wise woman beyond her youthful years that made Mr. Gold and Rumplestiltskin feel like both the stubborn child and the angry, heartbroken old man. She balanced him and tamed him, just as the fairy tale was written. Beautiful where she stood, even in the static artificial lighting and making him feel undeserving for being at the other end of her touch, she always was the Princess he once met.

Her soft hand cradled his cheek and he placed his own over hers, nuzzling his face into her palm, "I'm sorry." He let her soothe him. "It's all still very hard to believe that you are here, forgive me." She shook her head and kissed his other cheek. "Then do me a favor?" Belle met his eyes, where he showed his cowardly colors. "Put them somewhere I can't see them?"

Her mauve colored lips smiled for him, nodding just slightly, "I'll do that." She removed her hand and adjusted his tie again, "Now, you were going to take me out to dinner."

He smiled sheepishly, somewhat embarrassed for his outburst, and instead of answering, he just nodded. He opened the door for her, allowing her to turn off the lights and lock up the library, and then promptly offered his elbow for her to link in. He watched as she took a big breath, bracing herself for their exposure and together they started the short stroll down the street to his car that was parked next to his shop.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They drove to a little French restaurant three streets over. Belle had never visited the restaurant, only heard of it, because it was a place she'd wanted to go with Leo. Fortunately, he never seemed to get it together to take her there, so it was even more special that Mr. Gold decided on it for them.

It was nothing for Mr. Gold to dress the part for her and act like the knight she deserved. Opening doors, pulling out chairs and offering his own jacket were manners he'd acquired and studied from years of solitude and observation of all the classes. Lucky for them he had already charmed her so many years ago; he still had every intention to "court" her properly, believing that she was still unattainable to the likes of him. After all, she did choose an imp over a Duke.

His entire demeanor was calm and content, whereas she was the complete opposite. He wore the mask well, should he even be half as nervous as she that the two were officially out in public together, rather than dining alone in his shop, his home, or in her apartment over the library. Just feeling his presence in close proximity was enough to send her reeling. Though she loved him completely, their public appearance had to portray a newly romantic couple rather than two already in amorous love. Mr. Gold was the far better actor and she was relying on him to guide her cautiously.

The evening dinner rush had come and gone and with the exception of only a handful of diners scattered around them, Mr. Gold and Belle were able to enjoy their meal without any interruptions. They were halfway through their roast chicken when Belle looked up just in time to catch Mary Margaret walking to the door, her purse clutched tightly under her arm. She looked like she meant to leave in haste, but what she really displayed was obvious guilt.

"Mary Margaret!" Belle called out with her fork still poised at her lips.

The school teacher stopped abruptly and looked up with a face of shock, dismay, guilt and finally defeat. She closed her eyes, obviously not wishing to be caught leaving the restaurant, but put on a fake smile, "Hello Anna." Mr. Gold's back was to Mary Margaret as she approached, but once Belle's dinner companion was revealed, she was somewhat taken aback. A quick glance to Belle's hand on the table covered casually with his was an obvious indication that their relationship was no longer platonic. "Mr. Gold?"

Mr. Gold felt a strong warmth encase his heart, for it was a proud moment displaying Belle, Anna, while he dined. He dabbed his lips with the cloth napkin that lay in his lap and lifted his wine glass in a brief toast, "Miss Blanchard?" A slight smirk teased at the corners of his mouth, knowing what he already knew of their scandalous affair.

Frozen where she stood, Mary Margaret's words came slowly, "I didn't know..."

"Mary Margaret, you forgot...your...sweater-" David Nolan came rushing from the back of the restaurant holding a baby pink sweater in his hands, immediately stopping once he noticed she was engaged with someone. After seeing who she was engaged with, he froze mid-step. He wasn't prepared to be seen out with the school teacher in a quaint little secluded French restaurant.

Mr. Gold set down his glass and resumed his meal, pushing a piece of meat into the juices that flowed from his rare steak. Under his breath, he whispered, "Told you so," loud enough for only Belle to hear him. It was heard with a swift kick to his shin under the table.

"David?" Mary Margaret feigned surprise to see David in the restaurant. It was a pretty lame performance, based on the fact he was still holding her sweater. Still, she carried on with the innocent charm with her big doe eyes, "I, ah, it's good to see you."

David was far from the improv performer that Mary Margaret attempted to be and instead of playing along, he just stood still like a deer in the headlights. Apparently, he believed that the more still he stood the less of a chance he'd be seen...standing four feet from their table...with a baby pink sweater in his hands.

"Ah, good evening, Mr. Gold," David said, managing it with a soft voice and low eyes. He clutched the sweater as if his life depended on it.

"So, you two are out having dinner together?" Mary Margaret said, trying to turn the attention off the obvious elephant in the room that she had just dined with David. Her face was bright and hopeful, but guilty nonetheless.

Mr. Gold barely stifled a chuckle, glancing towards the school teacher and patted Belle's hand he held on the table, "Yes, and unlike you, we have nothing to hide."

Belle's face turned sour, pulling her hand away and swatting his wrist like a child who had been disrespectful. Once scolded, she smiled for David and Mary Margaret, "Yes, we are. We're letting the cat out of the bag, per say. Let Storybrooke have their gossip."

"Oh, you're together-together?" Mary Margaret confirmed, clutching her handbag tighter, trying to fully absorb the scene unfolding before her and put her mind elsewhere. She would do anything to reverse their meeting.

Belle smiled, looking back at her dinner companion, "We are. But, sorry to keep you." She had to offer a smile to her otherwise nervous friend, "its okay, Mary Margaret, David. We'll not say anything."

As if a wooden post just hit David in the head, he reeled around dazed, as if his movement had given them away. Without another word, Mary Margaret smiled sheepishly, obviously embarrassed, took her sweater from David and walked out the door. It took a few seconds for David to acknowledge that he was standing alone and then just shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets, leaving Mr. Gold and Belle to their dinner.

"Well, that was awkward," Belle said, resting her hand back on the table.

"No, dearie, awkward would be if they told anyone where they saw us and didn't have a better response than what just transpired," he said with an arrogant cool. With an extra stab to his cut meat, he resumed his meal once again, as if he'd had no interruption. A few brown wisps fell into his sightlines and he gave a slight boyish flick of his head to clear the way.

Belle pulled a face, "So, then really, no one saw us out together, did they?"

"Now, you're getting it."

"Well, damn."

"Trying to advertise something, dearie?" he asked with a flair of haughtiness. "Showing off to the town that you've attained the nastiest man in Storybrooke over the whelp?"

With a slight tilt of her head, her eyes still looking at his smug smirk, she turned her hand under his and began to lightly caress the inside of his wrist. "If I recall, you came after me, Mr. Gold. Having a library built in your house? You might as well just left cheese crumbles for the little mouse to find the trap."

He chuckled under his breath, proud of himself, but still making better eye contact with his dinner. "Perhaps so. Maybe, the beast just wanted to lure his beauty to keep her locked away, after all."

"Not a chance, Rumple," she said while poking at her food and still running her fingers along his wrist, catching on the cufflinks of his shirt. "You let me go, because you loved me."

"I did and I do," he confirmed, setting his fork down to hold her hand between both of his. Seeing as it was a small round table, they weren't too far apart for him to lift her hand to his lips and leave a long pressured kiss on the back of it, proudly displaying his undying devotion. As he pulled away, his eyes glanced beyond Belle to see the Mayor, with the company of the local Sheriff, also taking their leave from the private, albeit quite popular, restaurant. "Now this, will out' us," he said with a gentle pat of Belle's hand. "Mayor Mills, what a fine night to see you," he called out as if to make them a display. The Mayor stopped abruptly and pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed in on Mr. Gold. "You remember Miss French, don't you, Madam Mayor?"

The two women met eyes, but it was Belle who was the softer one, having remembered their history together rather clearly. The women were cordial, but it was Sheriff Graham that extended a gentlemanly hand to Mr. Gold and a nod towards his date.

"How nice for the two of you to spend an evening here...alone," Mayor Mills forced out, trying to read the status of their relationship. Her words sounded forced, put on and as transparent as the color clear.

It was almost painful to watch the workings of Regina's brain through that pretty head of hers, but it was the sound of gears turning to decipher what exactly their relationship was. As if the hand holding was not a dead give away that the pawnbroker and the librarian were an item, it still stumped her whether their emotions were true towards one another and not just a ruse.

Though he enjoyed the Queen's discomfort immensely, he went ahead and clarified, "Oh, didn't you know? We're seeing each other these days." He could see her face pale upon hearing the words of their attraction. "Imagine that. A beautiful young woman, like Miss French, is smitten by the likes of me? Well, you'd think it was destiny, wouldn't you? Perhaps we knew each other in another life?" Belle smiled, glancing up towards the Queen in that "cat got your tongue" way. The expression on Regina's face was one that didn't know if they were "awake" or not. This made Belle very, very happy to play up.

"Yes, Mr. Gold," Regina purred with half a smirk tearing at her lips, "It is as if by fate she would find someone like you charming." Without another word, Regina bid both of them good night and carried on leaving the restaurant with Sheriff Graham quietly close on her heels.

"Now, my darling Belle," he said with a sneer, "we have been outed."

Though they weren't a featured article in The Mirror, the quiet rumor of Anna French and Mr. Gold being seen dining together traveled quickly through the small town. Their private life remained. Private in a world only known to them. There were whispers and a few odd looks, seeing as Anna and Mr. Gold were an unlikely pair, no one truly believed it unless they had been seen first hand either dining at Granny's or walking along the sidewalks on lazy Sunday afternoons.

Belle's relationship with Rumplestiltskin felt old, comfortable and nurtured. Though it still remained in its infancy, it appeared that their mistakes made together were lessons learned and Rumplestiltskin had a lot of time to reflect on his poor decision making. Having his beautiful Belle on his arm gave him strength, dignity and above all else, human confidence. Belle was still learning more about him, both as a man in Storybrooke and as the legend known as Rumplestiltskin, whereas he still found himself searching for the reasons behind her interests in him at all.

There was something rooted between them during their time spent in the Dark Castle. He had revealed a very private part of him unknown to anyone living today and he protected his weakness like a Dragon hording her treasured eggs. He had long since buried the human side of him, being burned by love long ago by a few people, he still wondered why anyone so pure would see any good left in him at all.

"Love is a mystery to be uncovered," she reminded him, joining him on the couch on a late Sunday afternoon. They had just returned from a nice peaceful walk together, arm in arm, just discussing what their morning had been like. She had made them both tea and was presenting his chipped cup carefully, wearing of it spilling on his tie. She had removed her shoes and folded her legs beneath her, making sure her shoulder barely touched his, in order to keep him close. "I've told you that, before."

His lips formed a slight thin smile and he gave her a side glance, displaying a slight shadow of the trickster, "I heard it the first time, but I still find you, and you alone, to be that mystery. I'm layered, sweetheart, like an onion and no one, not even a sweet woman like yourself wants to peel back any of those layers."

She giggled playfully, lifting her cup to her lips and tasting the sweet spiced tea she had brewed from fresh herbs and leaves purchased that afternoon. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

On February thirteenth, the night before Lover's Day, Belle went out on a Girls' Night with Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Emma for drinks at a local bar. Celebrating the female independence of Emma, Ruby, and Mary Margaret (though Belle knew of her secret), Belle couldn't turn down an invitation to stay close to the town's heart. That and Ruby loved dressing Belle up in her clothes like a doll.

The bar was busy, busier than usual on an average weekday night, but most of the town's merchandise was on the prowl. Ruby herself had chosen her most provocative red dress and red pumps, not leaving much to the imagination on whether she was wearing underwear or not and only because Belle had turned it down in less than nine seconds. Mary Margaret looked somewhat out of place appearing to be exactly what she was: a school teacher out on a school night having a martini. At least her sweater's buttons had been undone in order to show off something. Emma looked on her guard, as if at any moment she was going to have to put someone in a headlock that made a move on one of her friends.

Belle, Anna to them, just looked complacent. She was versatile enough to know which type to be, but this night she was just a woman with her friends enjoying the ambiance, some gossip and a mint chocolate martini. Her hand rested casually on the table and next to it was her mobile phone that proceeded to vibrate and alert her of a message. Trying not to be rude and escape from the company, she slid the small black phone off of the table and opened the incoming text message: Don't talk to strangers! Belle smiled, immediately replying: You were a stranger. Mr. Gold's reply: Yes, but now you have a cane wielding suitor. Belle's reply: Frankenstein is lurking about. Mr. Gold's reply: Tell him about my cane.

"What are you smiling about over there?" Emma asked, sipping her bottled beer while keeping an open eye about them. She extended a finger towards Belle, Anna, tilting her head as if to find out a secret she was hiding.

Ruby clucked her tongue in tease with a wide open smile, "Oh, it's probably him." Her white teeth and red lips were practically salivating over the juicy gossip she had been savoring since her accusation. With a sassy flair she picked up the shot of amber liquid that was sitting before her, knocked it back and grabbed the nearby lemon.

"Him, as in Leo? You're back together with him?" Emma inquired with a curious lifted eyebrow. Her mouth curved into a half grin.

Letting the burn coarse down her throat, Ruby breathed in a dramatic hoarse whisper, "Gold!" She shimmied with the aftershock, displaying the rush the liquid had over her and nearly howled through the sensation.

While performing as sheriff, it was imperative that Emma know the goings-on in the small town, however learning the social relationships between individuals was not always information she was privy to. Case in point: the young pretty librarian was seeing the town's most dubious, albeit older, pawnbroker with an angry streak. This provoked a slight headshake from the blonde.

Mary Margaret set down her own martini on the square napkin, "Still with Mr. Gold?" She hadn't referenced when it was she first learned of their relationship, for her secret with David Nolan was still very very private. Instead, she feigned polite surprise.

"Yes," Belle smiled, setting down her mobile phone after sending double X's to the recipient. "Why is that so surprising?"

"Why?" Emma mocked, repeating herself again, "Why? Anna, he's kind of a scrooge."

"He is not," Belle declared, "He happens to be a very gentle man."

"Do tell," Emma pressed, leaning on her elbows and wanting to hear the reasons why anyone could possibly be drawn to the strange man that worked his own long hours penalizing day late payments and striking the whisper of fear to so many in that town. With a lick of her lips, she narrowed her eyes on the brunette, "Is it his money?"

"Absolutely, not!" Belle was nearly offended, but excused her new friend for her ignorance on Rumplestiltskin. "RUM-Mr. Gold," she quickly corrected, "is a very sweet, albeit private, considerate man. I'm sure you probably don't see what I see, but then I wouldn't expect anyone to see what I see in him."

"I'm sure he has some great qualities," Mary Margaret intervened, trying to calm the situation, before it escalated. Under her breath before sipping from her martini, she quietly added, "Albeit, unique ones."

"And who...," without an invitation, Dr. Whale swooped in and took residence in the fifth open spot at the tall cocktail table, "would we be talking about?" He shrugged his shoulders, appearing bold and available should he see an open target, meeting each and every set of woman's eyes with animalistic intent.

"Gold," Ruby replied, just reaching for another lemon to follow her shot. Her bright red lips practically devoured the fruit as her white teeth gnawed at the pits.

"Gold?" he asked with sheer abhorrence dripping from his tone. "And why would he come up at a table of such gorgeous women?" The man sipped his drink as if he owned the bar; confidence hidden by the liquid courage he had partaken prior to walking into the wolves' den.

"He and Anna are dating," Emma croaked, shaking her head and taking another drink in order to believe the words from her own mouth.

Missing his mouth upon taking another drink, Dr. Whale blinked a few extra times, his lips parting an quickly grabbing a napkin to dab at the few drops that had fallen on his shirt. Wiping away, he looked up to one of the prettiest brunettes in Storybrooke, "Come again?" He wiped furiously, nervous and in near disbelief that she would be wasted on such a...such a... well, a man with a rather poor reputation. "Anna, are you really seeing that guy?"

The opportunity had presented itself to keep the girls in check and send Dr. Whale reeling. Very carefully, as if planning her next move for a strategic game, she sipped her martini and placed it gently back on the napkin. She folded her hands on the table before her and settled in to tell them all a story, while her eyes focused solely on Dr. Whale.

"I really, really am," she started, her voice low like she was beginning to enchant him with a hypnotic spell with the rhythm of her voice. "We realized that we just couldn't keep our hands off of each other and one day, in his shop," she emphasized every word very carefully, making her lips pop or smooth at the right syllable, "we just couldn't take it anymore. He threw me down on his desk, tore at my dress, ripped off my panties and made love to me right there amongst all the antiques, dust and old books." Her audience of three women and one man was drawn in, rich and deep. They hung on her every word, both disgusted and somewhat intrigued, waiting to hear more of Anna's juicy details. "Our bodies all hot and sweaty, making me quiver from my teeth to my toes," she embellished, closing her eyes and allowing herself a slight shimmy, as if shaking off the afterthoughts as her tale wound its legend. Once it was enough to hear a pin drop and she saw the Doctor hanging on her every word, her mouth curved almost cruelly, "What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess." And with that, Belle picked up her martini glass and took a nice long sip, licking her lips of the sweet taste and giving herself a light fanning with her own hand.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Dr. Whale finally remembered how to breathe, picked up his glass and shrank away from the table in a dreamy haze, starting into nothing. The girls around her started to snicker, giggling on their own, covering their mouths before opening up their laughter to straight stomach clenching cackling.

"Well, that got him to leave," Belle chirped, flourishing her hands as if to bow after her performance. Much like another trickster she knew.

The girls' laughing began to subside and little by little the pauses between their gasps slowed to almost silence. Feeling the curiosity thick like fog, the pixie-cut raven tread carefully by asking, "Anna, that's not how it really happened ...did it?"

Belle's finger slid around the rim of her glass and with a slight wink to her friend, she added, "A lady never tells." She raised her glass in cheers, allowing the women to come up with their own conclusions, while lying through her teeth. She and Rumplestiltskin hadn't even been to bed together.


	3. Chapter 3

CH. 3

The evening air had been crisp, clean and fresh, but it was nearly chilling to the bone. Snow piles mixed with dirt and grime from the street formed unappealing cold mounds that resembled a rolling hillside along the sidewalk. Passers-by were weary of oncoming cars passing through the main street of Storybrooke, fearful that a small melted puddle might splash them, so they walked close along the buildings' walls.

While Belle had followed through with her plans to go out with Mary Margaret, Ruby and Emma, Mr. Gold had made his way down to "Game of Thorns", Moe French's floral shop. Jingling bells on the inside door handle announced the pawnbroker's presence as he closed the glass door behind him. He made his way further into the cramped little shop, stepping over plants and stacked flowers still in their shipping boxes. February thirteenth bode well for all florists, as it performed like Christmas Eve, with the generous sales of roses sent to promised ones. It was clear that the shop dearly missed Belle, Anna's, organizational skills, for there were stacks of handwritten notes, bundles of papers clearly stamped "invoice", and an array of broken pencils scattered over the counter.

Moe came in from the back, out of breath and a bit untidy, however when he looked to see Mr. Gold standing in shop, he straightened as if ready for inspection. He adjusted the bill of his had and hastened his step to the counter, "Mr. Gold, what can I do for you?"

Mr. Gold hated all his interactions with Moe, because his particular situation was incredibly delicate. Had he not learned that Belle was alive in a dark cold cell, he would otherwise have put all the blame on Moe and the story of the shunning of his own daughter. He probably would have ended up beating him to near death by his cane. For now, he attempted to keep the peace and secretly be at his mercy when it came to his daughter. Though the deal still remains: safety of their kingdom, in exchange for Belle. Though he managed to make a poor decision in a weak moment in his very long life, she still chose him after all these years.

For now, in the present day, Mr. Gold straightened himself up and put on the strong persona of his Storybrooke identity, complete with a sneer of his lip and an aura of impatience. Glancing about the shop, he everywhere but at the owner, "I want to order four dozen roses in vases for early morning pick up tomorrow." Mr. Gold flexed a gloved hand elegantly and then replaced it on the top of his cane. After nothing was said, Mr. Gold looked back at the man annoyed.

As if he'd just been threatened for his life, Moe went to grab a notepad and jot down his order. Fidgeting a bit as he tried to find a pencil with a working tip amongst the sea of broken ones, he wanted everything to do this just right. He already knew the importance of his order, seeing that it was for his landlord, and he wanted no other reason for the man to be upset with him. "And where would you like me to deliver them?"

As Moe scribbled down what could only look like a doctor's prescription, he reached for his vibrating mobile phone that sat in his inner coat pocket. It was a text from Belle discussing her evening and the fact that Dr. Whale was on the prowl. As Moe asked his question regarding delivery, Mr. Gold quickly ended the text: Tell him about my cane. "I'll take care of that. My assistant, Bruno, will be here in the morning tomorrow at 8 a.m. to pick them up. See to it that they're ready for him. It's imperative that I get them at 8," he said, emphasizing his last point.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Gold. I'll be here myself, or Leo will be here for you or rather your assistant," Moe replied, nodding his head like he had a nervous tick. He clutched the order in his hands as if it were a most valued scroll with a hidden treasure map.

"I'd rather it be you Mr. French, if you don't mind," Mr. Gold added, dusting invisible lint off of his coat. He didn't need to go into further detail that the young former knight and he did not see eye to eye as they share a common interest. Or rather, they did.

Moe nodded and assured him that his request would be met. The finest four dozen of roses in vases would be ready for him to collect in the morning on the busiest floral selling day of the year. With a nod, Mr. Gold reached into his inside pocket and removed his wallet in order to settle the pre-payment. After the transaction was complete, Mr. Gold turned on his heel and left the shop, slightly grinning how his little plan was coming together nicely.

Come morning, the roses had been ready at their precise time, earlier in fact, and Bruno was there to collect them in a long black sedan. Saying barely three words, Moe loaded the vases of flowers and watched the man drive down the road and turn at the end. What he didn't see was that Bruno hadn't gone too much farther down the main street, stopping and parking in front of the Storybrooke library. Carrying the first of four glass vases full of roses, he made his way to the double doors and pulled out the extra key to the library and slipped inside. Following his instructions the way he was instructed, Bruno was out quicker than he went in, unnoticed by any early risers beginning their morning strolls.

At 8:45 a.m., Belle closed the door to her apartment above the library and wrapped a scarf around her neck as she came down the outside back stairs. Taking in the crisp air, she stepped quickly, twirling around the banister as she reached the bottom and headed towards the front of the building. She looked above her, always checking to see the time, a little habit of hers, noting that she had more than plenty of time to prepare for her scheduled 9 A.M. opening for the rest of the town.

Her mobile buzzed in her hand as she held it tightly, receiving a text message from Rumplestiltskin: Snow storm coming in. Please keep warm. She replied: That's your job.

Directly in front of the library doors was a small card and a single rose laying on top of it. Across the front of the envelope it read, "Anna". She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching her before she bent down to pick it up. Opening the card, she recognized the signature immediately and smiled ever so slightly.

Anna,

On a day like this, it makes you realize what you don't have. I cannot say I'm sorry enough for whatever it was that I did wrong, but know that I wish I could turn back time to make it right. I'm hoping in the future, we end up together, because it's what would be right.

Love, Leo

She folded the card back up, slid it back into its envelope and carried the rose inside. However, once she entered her library and turned on the lights, her eyes fell on something she knew only too well. The signature vase that her father used on all his most expensive orders of flowers was bound, shined, and glistening as it held the prettiest opened roses she had ever seen. Had she known he was without magic, she'd think Rumplestiltskin had a hand in forcing their bloom.

For this, she rushed to her circulation desk and seized the envelope that only had a "B" on the outside. Her fingers practically tore at the paper that kept his words hidden and with a triumphant tug, pulled out a very simple black and white card where inside started his script:

Sweetheart,

I'm not the romantic sort, so forgive me. We come from two different worlds, literally, and I know now that wherever you are, I want to be. For now, I'm going to send you on a little journey to get your Valentine's Day present.

Clue #1: What is the name of our story in Henry's book?

With the prospect of a little quest, Belle spun on her heels and immediately rushed towards the children's' section of the library in search of "Beauty and the Beast". As she rounded the lower bookshelves, she saw on the small little table in the center where the activity books were placed, another dozen perfect roses were displayed in the same glass vase. Next to it, another little note was placed at its side, ready for her to open.

Clue #2: What I know your favorite book is (at least, at the moment).

This took a little bit more thinking, but she rounded the "classics" section and there on the same shelf as "Wuthering Heights" was another vase with its roses. Another card peeked out from the placement of the book.

Clue #3: What I know you're secretly reading, because you've replaced the dust jacket on it.

Belle's cheeks immediately warmed and her stomach fluttered at the thought of him discovering her dirty little secret. He couldn't possibly have known, for she had made grand efforts to keep that dustcover perfectly attached without the threat of it sliding off. Surely his sleuthing skills had failed him, but as she crossed her fingers and prayed to the Heavens above there wouldn't be a dozen roses in the New Releases section on a particular shelf...

Belle gasped, feeling absolutely mortified. Her hand covered her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut and it was all she could do not to call him up and beg for him to tell her how he'd discovered it. There, on the shelf of the New Releases was the very risqué "50 Shades of Grey" and next to it, another dozen roses, but instead of just a card and roses, this one had a small little box. She walked over to the shelf, secretly wishing that they weren't there, and avoided eye contact with the library's copy of the naughty little tale as if that would make every guilty pleasurable feeling go away. The little card sat under the little box, so assuming he'd want her to open the gift first, she did.

The small little box's hinges creaked as she lifted the lid. Sitting inside the old velvet box was a pair of emerald stud earrings set in an antique gold. It was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her, but it was the hunt to seize them that warmed her more. The trouble he went through thinking out his little treasure hunt was more than Belle could feel, so with a shaking hand, she reached for the last little card that was under the earrings.

Now, come find me. I love you. -R

She nearly bumped into Mary Margaret when she unlocked and pushed open her doors. Startled, Mary Margaret pulled back a couple of students that barely missed the flying door and gave Belle a surprised look.

"Anna," she said with a tilt of her chin and looking a little alarmed, "Everything okay?"

Apologizing for nearly taking out at least three of her waiting students, Belle held the door open for the kids to pass through. She smiled brightly, pretending that she wasn't as giddy as a small child over the present and the roses. Seeing Mary Margaret was a breath of fresh air, for as she was ready to jump to the skies, she just reached for her friend's hand and pulled her inside upon the last of the students.

"Mary Margaret, I'll be right back. I have to run down to the pawn shop for a moment, but I'll be right back," she said quickly.

"Yes, of course, but is everything okay?" the school teacher in the white sweater asked again while taking a quick glance to her class that had scattered.

"Fine," she blushed. "It's just Valentine's Day!" Mary Margaret gave her a half smile and Belle took off in the direction of Mr. Gold's Pawnshop, wishing to herself that she had worn running shoes for this occasion.

It wasn't a very long block down the road and to the first turn on her left, but it felt like it was taken forever to reach him. His sign hung above his shop, like a beacon calling out to her, and somewhere deep inside she found the ability to hasten her speed even more. His door handle turned easily and the little bell jingled, announcing her arrival, but he wasn't standing behind the counter like she expected. She passed through the curtain and saw him sitting at his desk with paperwork strewn all in front of him.

"Ah, my darling," he said, lifting his eyes to the angelic vision that stood in his doorway. "I take it you found your final present?" His voice was deep and calm, almost as if casting a concentrated spell like the old days.

"You," she said, slowly slinking around his desk, positioning herself next to him and then sliding gracefully into his lap. "That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on Valentine's Day." Her hands slid around his neck, scratching her nails along the nape of his neck. She loved touched the tips of his soft brown hair.

Both his hands encircled her waist as he welcomed her light weight on his lap. The side of his mouth curved up into a smirk and as he memorized her face for what seemed to be the millionth time in his life, he whispered, "Glad that you liked it, Dearie."

Hearing the smooth sultry sound of his velvety voice caused her to lean in and offer him the kiss he was obviously pining for. A soft press together was enough to go in again, nipping his lower lip ever so lightly with her teeth. He smelled delicious and was absolutely intoxicating to her that it was without reason and mere curiosity that she whispered, "Now, how did you find out about my secret reading material?"

He let out a low chuckle, flourished his hand a bit and replied, "Magicians never reveal their secrets." Belle frowned playfully, jutting out her lower lip, hoping that he would give into her plead. With barely a struggle, he caved and let out a sigh, "You left it on your coffee table and I snooped."

"That's what I thought."

"What's the book about?" he asked quietly, unable to meet her eyes. He knew exactly what the book was about, but was testing his waters with the beautiful woman on his lap that chose such scandalous reading material.

With a playful smirk, her fingers traveled to his necktie where she gently tugged on it, "Perhaps I could read it to you, or rather we read it together?"

Rumplestiltskin then found the courage to look her straight in the eye to see if she was bluffing and was met with a rather demure face with only the devious of intentions. His beautiful Belle was not the shy innocence everyone might have believed her to be and he was very game to explore those improbable theories. As her eyes laid on him, her hands gripping the silk material hanging around his neck like a noose, he could only swallow.

With another kiss she released his tie and stood from his lap, "I've left a small class of fifth graders in charge of my library, so I have to get back." She adjusted her skirt and sweater as she walked back around his desk, "I'll see you later?"

"Dinner," he insisted, as if there was no arguing it. It was a special day for those in love and he wanted to celebrate it for her. She smiled brightly and offered a little wave as she disappeared back into the front of the store and seconds later, the little jingle of his shop bell announced her departure. He remained seated for a few extra minutes at his desk, finding the additional minutes necessary to allow him to calm down, or rather settle down certain "parts" of him that had been awakened by the brief thought of a rather risqué reading.

Belle had since corralled all the roses and their vases together around her circulation desk. Though it was a little intimidating, it was an excellent conversation starter and the floral scent of the roses waft through the entire library. They were beautiful and though they wouldn't last forever, it was nice to have such gorgeous floral arrangements to share with her visitors.

Late afternoon, the library happened to be empty and Belle seized the opportunity to put away the stack of books that were piling up on a nearby "drop off" rack. While she was deep in the depths of the history section, kneeling down to the bottom shelf to put away rather heavy volumes, she managed to peek through the shelves to see a pudgy round faced man.

"Anna?" he called out, stepping beyond the foyer and looking down the rows of books. He wore his normal hat, his light jacket for such a cold day and had small band-aids on his fingers, probably from all the thorns he had handled on such a day.

"Papa," she murmured as she emerged from an aisle with her arms open to be embraced by her big bear of a father. "Good to see you."

Moe pulled back, holding his daughter's hands in his and smiled warmly, "I just came by to make sure you were okay for the snow storm that's coming this way."

"Is it supposed to be bad?" she replied, letting him squeeze her hands. She hadn't taken the winter's harshness seriously all season, so she wasn't prepared for the warnings now.

"One of the biggest," he said, skeptic that she wasn't prepared. "Businesses are closing early on account of it. Myself included."

"Speaking of business, I'm sure you're really busy, today."

"The busiest, my darling girl. You are missed," he said, stepping back and looking at his pride and joy standing before him, all grown up and not needing him. "But, I know you're happy doing this-" Moe stopped speaking as his eyes traveled to her circulation desk.

"I am. I love it here, it's been so good for me," she replied, without noticing the frozen look on his face.

Moe's eyes remained transfixed on the same four dozen roses he had prepared only that morning, complete with a special red ribbon he had added himself. There, plain as the day, they were displayed around the place where his daughter would be seated, as if worshipping their queen. Pretty, perfect blooms allowing their scent to permeate the entrance, that to anyone who hadn't been around them all day and night would otherwise be hit with the aroma so hard, they'd be pushed away. Still, as if a wooden plank had just hit him hard on the head, waking him from a deep dark sleep, he looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Anna, are those...mine?" Moe hesitantly asked as his eyes slowly returned to hers, wary of the answer.

Following his eye line, she glanced over her shoulder to her pretty arrangements, not yet aware of the effect they were having on her father. "Yes, I suppose they are. They really are beautiful-"

In an instant, Moe's disposition changed like a quick moving storm coming onto shore. His hands gripped her upper arms firmly as if his life depended on her and he shouted, "Are they from Mr. Gold?"

Her sweet loving father had changed from the soft gentle man inquiring on his daughter to a furious angry beast who practically spat out his question. Disgusted and frightened, she was taken back by the sickness in his voice, "Yes. Yes, they are!"

"Why did he get those for you? Why, Anna?"

"Because, it's Valentine's Day!" she answered quickly, slightly annoyed that he was being so irrational.

"It's true, then. What the town is saying? He gave those to you...Anna, are you...are you, seeing Mr. Gold?" he asked desperately; his fingers were digging into her shoulders.

Not liking her father's sudden turn, she pulled away, "Yes, I am." She composed herself as she continued, adjusting her rumpled sweater. "And, I'm very happy with him."

Moe licked his lips nervously, afraid to speak what was currently on his mind, but he needed to know. The truth of the situation was nearly enough to send him over, or he was absolutely repulsed that his only daughter would be involved with such a terrible and cruel man. Like a fly drawn into the light, he could only pray for his baby's poor lack of judgment by allowing herself to be lured in by his power.

"With him?" Moe practically stuttered the words.

"Yes, he treats me very well. He cares about me and I...I feel-"

Her father didn't allow her to continue and raised a hand to stop her from speaking, "Are you telling me," he paused to catch his words, "that you're falling in love with him?"

Though it was a little too late for that, she replied, "Yes, I am, and papa I don't think you really have anything to say about that." She wouldn't normally be as disrespectful with her words as she'd been, remembering that not too long ago in their old world, her father was a Lord and she just a noblewoman. He was feared, respected and adored by their people and he was always her hero, but now she was all grown up and making decisions for herself. The legend of her heart was her own to write and her own father wasn't going to persuade her otherwise.

"I do and I am saying something about it," he choked out; the little vein in his neck started to pulse. "Is that why you broke up with Leo? For him? Did he hurt you and now you feel trapped-"

"No! Stop it!" Belle pushed herself away as her father began to step in with open arms, hoping to console her. "I broke it off with Leo, because I don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. He doesn't make me happy!"

"...and Mr. Gold does?" he questioned quite abruptly.

"Yes," she begged, quietly. For a moment, she believed she was that sweet little girl on her father's lap trying to explain why she had tracked mud into the castle and gotten her new satin shoes all dirty. With a deep, brave breath, she continued, "Yes, he does. Please, papa, let me make my own decisions."

Moe French was normally a calm man when things went right or went his way. In this case, his only daughter made him as red as a radish and his heart rate went up three times the healthy pulse. He balled his fists, never wanting to strike his daughter, but at the absent man that was busying away his day in his own pawnshop.

"Did he trick you into being with him?"

"No!" she answered quickly, praying that no one could hear their argument from outside the library doors.

"You went to him willingly?"

"Yes," she sighed, sensing that her father was beginning to calm down. "I see a good man in him," she began to explain, "I'm not a child anymore. Please, just let me do what I want, for once."

Moe wanted to reach out to his daughter, to the precious reminder of what he and his wife had made, but her memory was no more than a figment imprinted by a curse. However, the love he felt for the young woman did not replace the anger he held for his landlord. He would see through this relationship, discover Mr. Gold's ulterior motives and show his daughter, Anna, just who she'd chosen for a suitor.

"This won't last, Anna," he said, taking a few steps towards the door. He watched as his daughter's face fell, her moderate spark fading as he neared the only exit. He pointed a finger straight at her for one last lesson to be taught, and continued, "He will hurt you. He's a terrible, terrible man." And with not another word, Moe French slammed the library door behind him, leaving Belle alone in the foyer.


	4. Chapter 4

TV Shows » Once Upon a Time » The Courting  
Author: LadySeradeRETURNS   
Rated: M - English - Romance/Fantasy - Reviews: 32 - Published: 03-02-13 - Updated: 01-10-14 id:9064073

A Note from Serade Black: Yeah, so long for an update, I know... But, at least this is the chapter where my M-rating comes in!

Ch. 4

The library was quiet and still. Like a big empty warehouse, every small sound echoed off the walls creating a hollow and very lonely place to be. No children laughed in the play area where stacks of blocks had been erected or trains stood patiently to be pulled into their stations. Just the wind whistling through the trees outside, finding tree limbs to bump against windows or small cracks in the old foundations to create drafts in random areas where one would walk. It was a haunting sound outside, like quiet wolves howling in the distance, but it was only the wind.

Still and silent, Belle sat at her circulation desk surrounded by books that waited to be checked back in and put back onto their shelves. What was once a perfect romantic day had turned as gloomy as the turning weather outside. Her father had really shaken her, his words hurting the worst. He still saw her as his little girl, the young woman he could tell what to do, or how to think, or how to act. Though he was loving and supportive, he still kept her within arms' length, not to allow her to have those adventures she dreamed of or be with the person she truly loved. The man she called father had shaken her up enough that she was thinking long and hard about her relationship, the meaning behind it, the reasons why Gaston was not a matched suitor to her personality and how the feared Dark One became the love of her life. Proven a hero to her village, forbidden by her father, she made a deal with Rumplestiltskin that sealed her fate, but it was a fate she chose. Little did she know that the bravery that followed would be down a bumpy path for the man she'd fallen in love with, because of his faults, his poor choices and overall bad judgment, because she saw the spark of a humble man that yearned for his son and happiness he couldn't quite place.

Enter Belle.

Her life had meaning from the second she walked out of that castle, leaving both her father and Gaston behind. The life as a pampered princess was to be over. No more handmaidens, no more galas or events, no more guards hanging around or chaperones escorting her on evenings out of the castle. Ahead of her had been a long road of heartbreak, adventure, meeting new friends, being imprisoned and rescued by the man most people feared. She would always love her father, for he was her first everything, but Rumplestiltskin had been her destiny and she regretted nothing.

Belle wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape, dabbing her cheeks with a tissue pulled from within her desk. Keeping a strong composure, she managed to freshen herself up just in time to be met by the friendly face of Dr. Hopper.

"Hello Anna!" he greeted with an excited cheer, always pleasantly pleased. "Getting a bit thick out there."

Balling up the tissue, she sniffed and pasted a half smile over her lips, "Hi Archie." She busied herself with a nearby stack of books, trying to occupy her mind with work, once again. "Is that the storm?"

He was already looking at the books in the self-help section of the library, conversing with her between the rows, "Yes, it's going to be quite something according to the newscasters. They said at least eight inches." She could hear him sliding books in and then out on the shelf, forcing them to thump against their back barrier. "Make sure you bundle up and get a few supplies for the next few days. You never know if this could be a serious one."

Archie Hopper always had a calming voice, no matter what the conversation was about. It was a nice tone, friendly and slow, but concentrated and well spoken. No longer allowing the deafening silence to consume her, she welcomed his conversation. "I'll keep that in mind."

After small chit-chat and some direction of the newest releases in the science fiction department, which seemed to be so ironic in their cases, Belle walked alongside of him to the circulation desk to process him. Sliding the books her way, careful not to confuse them with any others from her nearby mountains of reads, she remained abnormally quiet, piquing the doctor's interest.

"The storm is the reason I'm stocking up on a few reads," he started, trying to read her. "They say it might be enough to close the roads, so who would want to be out in that?" Belle nodded, typing the titles into the computer and issuing them a return by card. Archie felt compelled to pursue the normally radiant girl, so he focused on an obvious piece, "Quite an admirer, I see."

Finally, a spark, and he mention of the breathtaking bouquets on her desk was enough to whisper the hint of a smile. "They are a bit much, aren't they?"

"Depends," he smiled, pleased he had found a segue into deeper examination, "are they an apology or a gesture for the special day?"

"Gesture," she said quietly, glancing fondly at the pretty blooms. They symbolized so much between them, it was hard not to look at them and immediately feel a warming sensation flow through her veins. "He's done apologizing."

Archie smiled and stacked his own books as she finished processing them. With a slight tilt of his head like he had found the initiated spark to a happier Anna, he chuckled knowingly. "Then, it sounds like you've got the person that is going to keep you warm in this storm for the next couple of days."

Belle jerked her head sharply back towards the former grasshopper as if he had said something so profound, she had to allow his words to set in completely, before speaking. Something inside of her clicked, as if gears shifted right into place and he had put her entire train of thought into vast perspective. Her heart soared, knowing that her path chosen was the right one for her. Archie had allowed her to see what she'd always been looking at and it made her realize that she was the one that made that decision, not her father, she had. Archie just smiled back, watching her fire ignite and the smile to return to her lips fully. The shining Anna that he knew was back and as she blinked furiously, she nearly chuckled herself.

"I think, Archie that is my grand scheme." With an extra wave and nibble of her lower lip, she watched as the good doctor left the library, leaving Belle alone with her thoughts once again. At least in this moment, they were on an upbeat notion.

Deep in her thoughts of the day, her little hunt in the morning and her scuffle with her father, Belle had worked through the six o'clock hour. She hadn't bothered to keep an eye on the time, once she had found the steam to clear at least one shelf of her circulation desk. It was beginning to get backed up and as much as she loved sorting through the various titles, curious to what people had enjoyed, she looked forward to calling it quits for the day and allowing her evening to play out. She had a little mischief on her mind, something the good psychiatrist had sparked, and she wondered if she had the courage to pursue what her heart desperately yearned.

Her silence was broken by the sound of the front door opening and the soft thud of a cane on the floor. Immediately, her stomach tumbled and her heart skipped a few extra thumps. The slight frown was slowly turning into a half smile as she sensed his presence. Her Dark One was there to brighten her up and as she peeked around from behind a bookshelf, she saw him adjusting his tie and fixing his pocket square.

"Hello," she said, coming out from behind her hiding spot. He immediately gave her all of his attention, as if waiting for inspection, but really just not wanting to miss a moment of her. He met her with similar pleasantries. "So, they're saying that this coming storm is going to be a rather serious one."

"That's what I heard on the radio. Apparently, Boston is really up in arms about this. Supposed to be one of the biggest storms they've had in years," he replied, making idle conversation.

"And then there's us in little Storybrooke that no one knows a thing about," Belle smiled, restacking a few books from a smaller pile on her circulation desk. Her movements were sluggish, her mind heavy.

"Is everything okay, dearie?" he asked, taking a few steps closer. He placed a hand against the small of her back as he neared, cautious not to interrupt her business if she was focused on her task. "You seem a little distant."

She sighed under her breath, doing her best to compose herself and put on a stronger exterior, but he knew her. He studied carefully and could tell that her little light was flickering, albeit it was there, just dim. "My father came to see me and he saw your roses," she explained. "He's having a difficult time dealing with-"

"Us," he finished for her. He took his hand away and returned it to the top of his cane where he leaned heavily on it. "I'm certainly not surprised."

"He has a hard time letting me go," she said quietly, turning towards him and resting a hand over his on top of his cane.

"I remember. But, what he doesn't remember was that you were a hero that saved your village, because of a deal you struck. The old Lord would be very proud of his daughter, if he could remember what you did."

She offered a small smile, touched by his sincere words. She squeezed his hand and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Of course, what happened after is none of his concern. But, he did raise a rather silly girl that believes a monster can change."

Her eyes met his and she lifted a hand to his cheek, feeling the slight stubble along his chin. "I fell in love with a good man, not a monster. Stubborn as hell, though and a mean streak for the weak ones now and then, but a man that loves his son to create an entire curse in order to find him. To me, you are incredible."

Gold was touched with her kind words, though undeserved and hard to believe, he still found himself undeserving of such a beautiful heart. He would offer her the moon, could he contain it, or catch a falling star if it was possible. She was his hope, his redemption and when he found his son, he would finally be complete.

"Hey," he started, lifting her chin with the tip of his finger, "it's our day. Let's not dwell on the things we cannot change."

Putting on a steel face, she grinned and nodded. Their day was to be spent together, even if it did get a late start and her father had put a damper on her mood. It wasn't enough to keep her down. She kissed him quick and slid her arms around him tightly, pushing her body close against him so that he'd pull her in. He rested a hand on her back, sliding his hand over her ribs and squeezing her slightly.

Together they left the library and walked to his car, trying to not let the chilly wind take them away. The flurries were beginning to fall, but nothing heavy or threatening. The windshield wipers managed to keep it clear for the short ride. After two unsuccessful stops at restaurants, they were turned away seeing as the storm was on their heels and workers wanted to get home and prepare. This left a romantic dinner out a little unattainable.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other clutching Belle's hand tightly in the space between them. They sat together as the car idled outside the same French restaurant where they saw both Mary Margaret and Regina. The sign said closed and the suggestion that Belle made had rendered Mr. Gold catatonic. "Please tell me you're pulling my leg."

"Rumple, it's the only option, unless you plan on making me dinner at your house."

"Granny's? Sweetheart, it's not exactly where I wanted to dine you on this night of all nights," he said with the conviction of a very annoyed man. Not annoyed at Belle, but at the paranoid little town itself. He would be sure to amend both establishments' rental contracts to be open, even in torrential weather.

"Well," she said with a sly half grin, "might I remind you that it's not where we go, it's the company we keep? I wouldn't care if you took me to a cabin in the woods and we ate marshmallows from the fireplace, as long as we were together."

"Well, when you turn it around to make me look like a true arse, Granny's it is," he said as he put the car back into drive. "Coincidentally," he started as he made a right turn at the stop sign to head back down the familiar road beyond his own shop, "I happen to have just such a cabin in the woods."

"Well then, maybe we make plans for next Valentine's Day to spend it there," she said, reaching for his hand again, once it was free and resting on the armrest between them. Without looking at her, she caught him smiling to himself, hiding the hue in his cheeks. It was evident that a secluded cabin the woods conjured up some very elicit ideas.

As late as it was, far beyond the normal dinner hour, there still remained a few late night diners in the family-owned establishment. Belle stepped inside shaking herself out of the snow flurries that had landed on her coat and in her hair. As Mr. Gold pressed himself up behind her, he quickly closed the door as the wind fought against him, bumping Belle and creating a quick comical entrance for the unlikely pair.

"I'd say 'look what the cat dragged in', but Anna always remains the pretty one, even when she's been dragged out in a blizzard," Granny said with a snarky tone towards Mr. Gold, but offering a slick wink to the young woman standing in front of him.

Belle smiled, fluffing her hair out and unbuttoning her jacket, "Table for two, Granny?"

"Sit anywhere you like," Granny said with a much softer voice. "Not like we're taking reservations."

Mr. Gold helped Belle out of her coat and hung both his and hers up on a nearby rack. He followed Belle through the diner, after getting another snarky glare from the old woman, and took a seat at the same booth they had dined together in.

"I take it you're all ready for the storm that's out there brewing?" Granny asked with mild concern, sounding like a bit of an old school teacher. She slid menus in front of them and crossed her arms, waiting for an answer. She rather enjoyed putting Mr. Gold on the spot, once she had discovered he actually had a soft spot for someone. Granted, that person was her own granddaughter's best friend, so it made it equally as appealing to sort him out at every chance she got.

"You know, we didn't know it was as serious as they're saying," Belle replied, glancing at the menu and then up towards Granny. Her eyes were as friendly as the lyrical sound of her voice. Granny couldn't help but offer a small smirk for her.

"What's the matter? Doesn't Mr. Gold's shop have a radio?"

"I heard of the storm just fine. I'm aware of its severity," he replied with a sarcastic tone, not bothering to look up at the woman and continued to peruse the menu.

"And yet, you still drag this poor girl out in it?"

"We wanted to go out for Valentine's Day, Granny. Our plans for the evening didn't go quite as planned." Belle replied before Mr. Gold could, knowing that a slur against Granny's Diner was on the tip of his tongue and she merely diffused the conversation. "We'll need a few minutes, if that's all right?" Granny nodded and left the two of them alone.

"It's been awhile since I've raised her rent," Mr. Gold said under his breath, his eyes peeking up from hanging wisps of brown hair.

"You will not, Ruby is my best friend," Belle said opposite him, not even meeting his glare.

"Yes, but Granny's not."

"She's part of the territory. Now, Mr. Grump, pick out what you want to eat."

"Should I even bother to ask her for a wine menu?" he said, setting his menu down on top of her folded one. He couldn't help but get in one more jab at the old woman's expense.

Belle pursed her lips and lowered her eyes nervously as she reached out to hold his hand across the table. "How about we save the wine for back at your house?"

Her mention of a location change immediately curved his negative demeanor and instantly focused any and all of his attention on the young woman who was currently holding his rough and calloused left hand in between her two soft ones. "My house? Now that, sounds like a much better plan."

Her eyes remained fixated on their hands touching, trying not to show the blush that warmed her cheeks.

"Well, if I'm going to get snowed in someplace, I'd rather it be with you." After a few seconds of silence from him, she mustered the courage to meet his eyes and see if he was on the same page as she. His look was a combination of surprise and comprehension. Where one would believe him intimidating, she saw as alluring and by the ever so slight smirk at the right corner of his mouth, she knew he was catching her drift.

"Have we decided?" Granny's voice interrupted their moment like a chaperone about to separate them with a nun's ruler. She tapped her notepad on the back of her wrist, her pen dangling between her fingers.

Belle looked up and smiled, still clutching his hand between hers and said, "I'll have a hamburger and an iced tea, please."

"Iced tea? It's snowing outside and you're having iced tea?" Mr. Gold questioned, wondering if his girl was all right. Belle shrugged, her hands never leaving his and with a silent surrender, he replied, "I'll have what Miss French is having, but with hot tea." As Granny wrote it down, Belle gave his hand a gentle insistent squeeze and a piqued eyebrow. Taking the hint, he grimaced and forced a thank you to complete his request.

Their meal came at minimal time and though small talk was made, they were more interested in how few diners there were. Several folks popped in for last minute meals on the go or for the sweet desserts that Granny was giving away at half price, but otherwise the place was near empty. With a heavy gust, the front door blew closed as Ruby was thrust through and near swatted on the rear upon entry. She wore a huge thick winter jacket over skin tight red pants and heels, while her hair was wild around her shoulders. She checked in with Granny, assuring her that the inn was well stocked with extra blankets from the basement, but as soon as she spotted her friend, she shuffled over to their table.

"Hey," she said a little concerned, "you guys better get going. It's getting really bad out there. They're talking about closing the roads tonight."

"Really?" Belle asked, giving Mr. Gold a quick look to see if he was ready. "Perhaps, we should think about going?"

"I'll go get our coats," Mr. Gold replied, reaching for his cane and excusing himself from the women's' company.

Once out of earshot, Ruby leaned in close. "So, this is where he took you for Valentine's Day?" The wolf-like woman with the wide smile gave a bored disgusted glance towards Mr. Gold while his back was turned and he was settling the bill with Granny.

"Oh, Ruby, you just don't know what he did for me today," Belle smiled, thinking of the little hunt he put her on that morning, complete with jewelry. "This was not the initial plan for dinner. Granny's was just the only thing still open."

"Fine, I'll give him that one. So, what now?"

"So, now we're going to go back to his house and have some wine and ride this storm out," she said coy and as aloof as she could, knowing that her close friend would catch her innuendo.

Like an eager gossip, her eyes bright and her teeth white in her very wide smile, Ruby grabbed her friend's upper arm and demanded to know, "Are you planning on spending the night with him?"

Nearly blushing and nibbling her lip nervously, Belle glanced towards her date that was now coming back and presenting her coat open for her. She gave Ruby a subtle wink and replied, "That's my plan." Ruby's smile was enough to give anything away and it was all she could do to contain a devious dirty little giggle.

Ruby watched as Mr. Gold was ever the gentleman and assisted Belle with her coat, offering her scarf and waiting for her to walk ahead of him, so that he followed closely behind. As he escorted her to the door, Belle gave another wave to her friend, where Ruby gave a proper, "Have fun you two!" Granny quickly scolded her for her outburst.

Mr. Gold returned her to her apartment in order to retrieve a few things in the event she would be stranded at his house for a few days, as well as her own car. She didn't want anyone to check up on her at the apartment over the library if her car was there, but she wasn't answering. The last thing she needed was for her own father to worry that after Valentine's Day, she would have been left to a cold apartment and not answering her own door. Only a handful of people had the number to her mobile phone and she didn't need to alert anyone to any misconceptions.

She followed Mr. Gold to his home, parking her little Toyota Corolla next to his Cadillac, and then hurried out of the car to meet him at the sidewalk. Together they huddled close, bracing themselves against the gusting winds as a single unit. She hugged his arm tightly, cowering close against him and allowing the wool of his jacket to rub against her cheek. They navigated the front steps and pushed through into the foyer, sighing in great relief as they were met with somewhat warmer temperatures.

"It's brutal out there. They weren't kidding." Belle spun around and removed her scarf, watching him do the same. The two undressed from their warm outerwear and once freed, she stepped in and rested her arms around his neck. "Thank you for dinner," she said with a sultry voice. His hands ran up and down her waist, feeling the contours of her body under the dress she wore. They shared a single long kiss before Belle pulled away and began walking into the kitchen.

She spun around and walked backwards, as if luring him in after her with an invisible rope, "So, red or white?" She bit her tongue, trying her best to play coy.

Appreciating her playfulness, Gold followed after, allowing a safe space to remain between them as they walked around his kitchen counter island. "Red, sweetheart," he answered, feeling that the harsher wine might enhance their evening, wherever it may lead.

She spun around once again, her heels clicking swiftly on the hardwood floor as she walked to his modest liquor cabinet to help herself. Taking out a new bottle, she took the liberty of retrieving a corkscrew from the small wooden drawer nearby and prepared two glasses.

Gold carried on into the living room to turn on the television, changing it over to the weather channel to see what the current status of the storm was. As he stood in front of the couch, watching the newscaster describe the snow prediction, Belle watched him carefully as she set down the bottle of wine to breathe a few minutes. He stood straight backed and proud, relaxing a little as he leaned his cane against the couch in order to unbutton his jacket and slide it down his arms. She admired his physique beneath a fitted shirt and vest and though he wasn't a particularly larger man, she still enjoyed his lean form that suited her own small shape.

After a few minutes of studying the quirky weatherman on the television, he turned and laid down the remote on the nearby coffee table. "It's not going to be pretty," he said, walking over to the fireplace to set a log alight. By the time the fire was beginning to work itself through the logs, warming each small branch throughout and catching a good burn, Belle had just poured wine into a second glass. She stood poised and ready, handing him a glass as he joined her in the kitchen. He took it politely, nodding his head in appreciation.

"To our first official Valentine's Day, Rumple?" she said sweetly, her blue eyes twinkling brightly.

"To the beautiful woman who fell in love with a monster," he quipped and quickly held a finger to her lips, before she could interrupt, "and makes me want to go back to the best version of me." He removed his finger and lifted her chin, "Thank you, sweetheart."

She lowered her eyes and clinked her glass with the toast. As her lips touched the rim, tasting the cabernet, she turned away from him and walked towards the end of the kitchen counter. With a careful grace, she hoisted herself up on the marble countertop and crossed her ankles as her legs dangled over the edge. While leaning back on one arm, her body relaxed and calm, she sipped her wine slowly and glanced his way.

His eyes never left her, watching her movement like a skilled hunter and basking in the sight of her long pale legs as they were displayed for his viewing pleasure. Her dress rose above her knees and her slender angles crossed and swayed comfortably as she sipped her wine like a Grecian Goddess upon her pedestal. Her hair fell romantically over her shoulders where her eyes snuck flirtatious glances his way.

Smiling to himself, Gold prepared himself to seize the opportunity to corner her where she sat. He set his cane alongside the lower cabinets and slowly began to close the distance she put between them, sauntering up to her like he was sizing up his prey caught in a trap. Her eyes were half lidded as she sensed his game.

"You know, if you're going to sit on my counters, dearie," he said with a sultry low voice, "I have certain rules.

His voice was low and mischievous, like it did when he was offering a deal to some desperate victim. However, a part of her worried that she may have crossed a line with her liberties in his kitchen and asked, "Do you not want me up here?

He chuckled quietly to himself and positioned himself directly before her. Her ankles still folded and her legs acted as a barrier between them. "My only rule is that if you insist on sitting atop my counters," he set his wine glass down next to her and reached for her ankles, "is that you remove your shoes."

Very slowly, he reached for her ankles as if touching fragile glass and uncrossed them. Very delicately, as if savoring something decadent, he slid off each high heel and let them fall to the floor. "Remove my shoes?" she asked. "But, why?"

He made a mental note that she wore no stockings and her toes were painted a pretty baby pink. With a very agonizing performance where his concentration never deterred, he finally answered, "Because," he smiled to himself, letting his finger run along her instep, "I want to look at your pretty feet."

In a fashion she was not familiar with, Belle watched in awe as he handled her toes, heels and ankles as if they were as valuable as freshly spun gold. Her suitor magician took it upon himself to gently massage each foot with delicate care, firmly pressing into the tender spots. Belle leaned her head back and let a quiet, barely audible moan leave her lips where her eyes slowly slid shut from the enchantment.

The mewling sounds that his beautiful Belle released from her perfect rose colored lips were enough to feel the beginning stirrings of tightness in his groin. Though he had done enough until now to suppress such physical displays of attraction, he didn't wish to embarrass himself so early in the evening. He worked her foot down, allowing his fingers to steal a caress along her calf, and eased her back into the present.

Upon waking, his ministrations earned him a far more relaxed Belle, as well a small pout of her lower lip. "A girl could get used to that," she said with low lidded eyes, "why did you stop?" Sipping her wine, her bare foot slid along his left leg.

The energy between them was beginning to heat up, creating a very slow seductive game of cat and mouse. The answer he wanted to say did not quite meet his lips, so he settled on something lighter. With a slight smirk, he replied, "Because, it looked like you were about to slide right off my counter."

She giggled, the few sips of wine offering her courage. "Would you catch me, Rumple?"

"Every time."

Smiling coy, she averted her eyes towards the television to break up the moment temporarily. Though she played cool and calm rather well, inside her heart was fluttering like a canary and he was the cat that was ready to devour the little bird. The wine calmed her nerves, thankfully, and her bare foot seemed to have a mind of its own, but her beau didn't seem to mind in the least. Belle was not the vixen, nor was she one to seduce a man. Most what she knew, she learned from reading and all what she had experienced came from a narrow minded, one-shot beefy guy that took no time for romance. Belle had never been romanced, never been wooed and never felt the allure in being with someone, until she met Rumplestiltskin. As unconventional as their relationship was in the beginning, it matured to something much greater and much more intimate than she ever could have expected. Being with Rumple in Storybrooke brought out another side of her. It helped her realize who she was and what she wanted. The proof stood before her, dressed in fine threads of this world, sharing a bottle of wine and allowing her to set the course of their intimacy. He had been the man she wanted, he had wooed her, he had pursued her, he was courting her and he was gentle with her. Which was why when he turned his head to look at the television to see the latest weather update, she never wanted to tear his clothes off and force him to make-love to her right there on the counter top so badly in her life!

"Looks like we're going to get it pretty hard all night and throughout the day tomorrow-" he was cut off immediately by a yank of his red silk tie.

Belle caught him off guard, bringing him close and spreading her legs to let him step between them. She locked her ankles behind his thighs, pulling him tight against the counter and grinning wickedly at him, making his pulse quicken with the newfound desire that settled within her. "Then, it looks like you're going to have to be the one that keeps me warm," she cooed, still holding his tie like a leash.

He let out a slight gasp as she beckoned him like a Siren, never believing that this gentle creature could harbor the feelings she did towards him. Worlds apart, two souls were reunited and now currently as close as two could be in the confines of his big pink house. Her lips called to him, glistening sweetly in the low lighting of the room, as her chestnut curls fell around her shoulders like a curtain revealing a brilliant performance. He reached to stroke her soft cheek, prolonging the impending kiss and taking a last moment to contemplate the consequences of what all of this was leading to.

The moment was fleeting and he finally closed his mouth over hers, savoring her swollen nibbled lips and tasting the remnants of the cabernet they shared. Starting out slow, he slid his lips over hers, sucking her lower one softly, intensifying the pressure, and following it up with a gentle nip. She moaned quietly against his mouth, meeting his tongue suckle for suckle, and then pulling apart to sigh contently.

She finally released his tie, but did not release the grip her ankles had around his waist. Keeping him close, and solidifying the message she was sending, Belle slowly eased herself to the edge of the counter. No longer as protective of her modesty hidden by the skirt of her dress, her juncture pressed against his belt, sheathed only by thin lacy fabric he had yet to see. As she slid her hands up along his waistcoat, over the lapels of his buttoned shirt and around his neck, her fingers slid into his hair. She looked up to see a man who cherished the closeness, not the cruel eyes of a predator. His eyes were gentle, loving and as they basked in the tranquility of their newfound proximity, Belle gave a subtle thrust of her hips to slide against his rather noticeable bulge.

Rendering him weak in the knees momentarily, he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, allowing the scent of her arousal fill all of his senses. He repositioned himself to allow some relief to the firmness in his trousers, resulting in better positioning to press against her center and feeling the warmth through the fabric. She clung to him tighter, grinding once again, eliciting a rather innocent moan from her that was unexpected.

Rumple pulled back, holding her face between his hands, searching for a plea, an out, anything to tell him not to continue. What he found was a yearning, a begging, a desperation of desire that she wanted from him. Eyes of love spoke to him silently, willing him to continue, and nothing about them said he needed to stop.

He leaned in and kissed her softly as he cradled her face, burying his hand into her soft waves while his other hand reached behind him to cradle her calf that tensed around him at his touch. Very slowly, he began to caress the soft skin behind her knee, allowing his fingers to gently tease its way upward. Not wanting to push her, he was cautious when he reached the top of her knee, hesitating only a second before gliding along the outside of her thigh. He waited for a protest, but instead felt her nibble his lower lip in a way to encourage his exploration. His fingers met the bottom hem of her dress skirt and she mewled against his mouth when he met the lower seam of her panties along her hip.

She ran her fingers to the tips of his hair, gently pulling and tugging with the same level of intensity that was slowly beginning to burn warmer and warmer, like the log he put on the fire. His left hand mirrored his right and both were placed under her skirt, now gently kneading her outer thighs, offering pressure that insinuated his growing passion for the young woman spread on his counter. He slowly slid his hands under her thighs, circling around her rear where he gave a firm thrust. She only clutched to him tighter and her hands scratched at the back of his scalp encouraging more. Just shy of dry humping, he made very small thrusts against her so that their clothed parts met and felt heat of the pleasant pressure.

Tearing his lips from hers as he started to grind a little harder against her on the counter, he wanted to see the pleasure on her face, hoping it was as well received from her as it was for him. Practically drunk on lust, she looked up at him, her lips swollen and her breath panting, she nodded her head for him to proceed. Needing to taste her flesh, he trailed his lips along her jaw, running his tongue along her neck. He nipped harder, marking her for his own preservation and if anyone saw them, they would know that she belonged to him. As she threw her head back, allowing him easier access to run his tongue over the smooth flesh, she pressed the back of his head against her, wanting him to bite her harder. His teeth teased along her tender areas, laving her with kisses as he worked his way back up along her ear lobe where he growled his arousal.

She balanced herself on his counter using him as her ground, welcoming his advances and moaning in absolute glee that he was tasting and touching her. His hands were hot against her skin and his gentle teases at her waist were about to be her undoing, for the very way he slid his fingers along the waist band of her panties, coming oh so close to her apex, was making her incredibly wet. His subtle thrusts continued, forcing her to acknowledge the harder length of him that was practically bursting from his pants, tethered back by a zipper.

To an outside eye, should a voyeur look in on them, their positioning was one that should have been painted. The maiden was presented before her beloved, limbs wrapped around each other protectively, and doing their best to keep the outside world at bay. Together they shared their moments and their whispers, while the sound of breathing was their only company. Their unity together, even clothed, made them believe that they were the only people in the world to feel as right as they did.

Feeling the courage to enhance their stimulation, nimble fingers busied themselves with loosening his tie. The ends fell around his shoulders as she moved to the buttons on his waistcoat. Her initiated undressing was received by harder, faster kissing that built up the passion so quickly that she needed to pull away for breath, but also with a whisper of his name. He had been worked up by the sensation of her fingers unbuttoning halfway down his chest, that the sound of a small growl was an indication of the inner beast he claimed to be. He repeated her name with an equally breathy passion as plundered her mouth greedily with his tongue. Affections were a part of breathing, both mutually repeating what the other had said.

Tasting the slight salt of her skin, inhaling the fragrance of her perfume and having her within his grasp were more than he could comprehend. This incredible woman that was as beautiful as the sun was bright, both inside and out, illuminated like a beacon of light in a long tunnel of darkness. His lips slid against her skin easily, mechanically, like he had done this many times before. He felt like he needed to make up for the lost time with her, make it up to her, make it up to himself and try to look forward. She made his heart soar to new levels, higher than the moon above them, to the deepest depth of the oceans surrounding them. She was his.

Softer kisses of praise followed harder panting ones and she paused to cradle his face between her palms in order to slow down and press her forehead against his. Her words needed to be heard and not over hasty kisses or passionate love bites. "Rumple, I want to give you everything that I am."

The air between them was thick, heavy, passionate and he replied almost desperately, like he'd run a marathon, "I don't deserve that."

"I want to be with you," she added with a slow hard grind, emphasizing her point.

Nervous that they had finally reached the breaking point, but heated with heavy desire for the woman who wanted him so freely, he answered, "I definitely don't deserve that."

Her fingers feathered his hair and offered him a reassuring smile. A warm sensation filled her stomach, thrilling her that their relationship was about to advance in their romantic endeavors. "Happy Valentine's Day, Rumple," she said with a sweet simple kiss.

He was quietly stunned, wondering what he had done in his very long life to deserve such an incredible creature that seemed to love him unconditionally. It was difficult to comprehend the magnitude of the "gift" she was offering him, never believing for one second that he would ever take her for granted again. He could not speak, he could only listen.

He kissed her again, wanting to heat up the kiss, but she pulled away pressing a hand against his chest. "But, I need to tell you," she swallowed nervously, proceeding with her secret, "I'm no longer a maiden."

"I'm not either," he teased, his gold tooth peeking from his grin. He quickly leaned in to leave a trail of wet passionate kisses along her neck, tasting every bit of her now that he was granted absolute permission. He couldn't get enough of her!

Her giggle made his heart flutter and he proceeded to cross under her neck to the other side. Like a race car slowly revving up his engine, he pushed against her, only to settle down again. His lips yearned to taste every bit of exposed skin above her chest. He nibbled for her jugular, nipped her earlobe and growled in her ear while he used his best practices to tame the inner beast from ripping her dress off and taking her unceremoniously on his kitchen counter. He felt her fingers unbuttoning his waistcoat, freeing him of at least one piece of clothing by pushing it off his shoulders to the floor. His mind was reeling from the reality of their situation and what was happening.

"Was it Leo," he asked in a low husky voice, sighing against her skin. The idea of another man partaking in this luscious dessert of his was nothing he could argue, for he had not staked a claim in her life, yet. At least, he hoped it wasn't when he was in her life.

"Gaston," she answered in a very breathy tone, distracted by his touch. This jarred him enough to immediately cease his ministrations and pull back to look at her. His eyes searched her face for further explanation, trying to read if it was a good or bad experience. However, it made him very curious for it was not common for a knight to deflower a Lady before her wedding night in their land if she was unwilling. Plagued by haunted thoughts of dishonor to his princess, Rumplestiltskin ran a single finger along her flushed cheek, wondering why it had happened before its time. Not so much that she wasn't a maiden for him, those things weren't as valued in this world, but this confession rendered him quite curious. Belle sensed his concern and she put him at ease. "It wasn't a particularly nice experience," she explained, unable to meet his eyes. "He figured since we were to be married anyway, he didn't find it necessary to wait. It wasn't a time I would note as special."

Rumplestiltskin ran his fingertips along her cheek and under her chin, wishing he could take those memories away from her mind. Disgusted that such a horrible man would take her unwillingly, he found the word, "monster" coming easily off his lips.

"In that case, yes he was," she said quietly, letting him caress her features in such a delicate manner that it gave her the courage to forget about it in order to create better memories with said act. Her secret weighed her down and telling it to him only strengthened their relationship more, allowing her to let him into her heart even deeper than he already resided. She finally met his eyes again and finished, "Leo just followed in this world."

"My darling, Belle," he consoled, offering the gentlest of chaste kisses, "I promise not to be a beast like that."

Their kiss was slow starting, but progressed rather quickly as he consumed her mouth, feeling her tongue slide freely against his. Doing his best to convey his passion for her, she responded with equal attempts to dominate their kiss. He felt her fingers begin the path down his shirt, undoing each button with skill and precision that he started to feel a slight draft; she was already halfway down pulling his shirt open to expose his chest. His hands slipped back under her dress, caressing her thighs while letting his thumbs just barely graze the juncture between her legs.

She cooed against his mouth, urging him to tease her more, hoping for a much more intimate touch. She gripped the ends of his tie, pulling him closer like the reins on a horse and nudging herself even harder against him. She practically panted against his mouth as the friction of his thrusts and the tease of his thumbs made her more and more moist.

One of his hands slid out from under the hem of the dress and around to her rear in order to slide his fingers up along her zipper. Finding the metal tab, he began to pull it down very slowly, as if waiting for any kind of protest. The anticipation of undressing her was burning hard into him, wanting to see and taste every supple curve she had, starting from her neck and down to her toes, possibly stopping somewhere in the middle.

Her hands roamed freely along his bare chest, feeling the contours of his slim, but muscular physique. Sparse hair lay between his smooth pecks leading a light trail down his stomach and disappearing somewhere below his belly button. She licked her lips as her eyes feasted upon him, memorizing every inch of him when the urge to lick his chest overcame her. She felt him shudder beneath her touch the second her lips touched his skin. She kissed where her hands caressed, giving grateful attention to each of his own nipples, nipping those with her teeth. She heard him hiss through his teeth.

His fingers trembled on her zipper as her tongue grazed his nipple, executing a very audible gasp from the sensation. His cock twitched as it was tightly confined in his pants while his greatest desire was for her to do nothing more than to bite him as hard as she wanted.

He managed to get her zipper down all the way with some kind of hidden will he mustered from the only notion that she would be out of the dress soon. No sooner had he impressed himself with this skills was she leaning up and taking her arms out of it. The fabric of the flimsy gown fell forward, exposing a black and pink lace bra that left very little to the imagination.

Basking at her beauty as it heaved before him, he managed to whisper, "Beautiful."

Pleased that her recent purchase had not disappointed, she whispered in his ear, "It's all for you."

The most powerful man in all the realms swallowed nervously, his mouth now going dry, and placed his hands gently beneath her lifted bosoms. She all but shoved her chest further into his palms, wanting him to touch and feel her as he intended. Her nipples peaked through the fabric, urging him to fondle her properly and with very little encouragement, he tested her tender points by running his thumbs over them.

She held her breath as he touched freely now, biting her lip and watching his eyes devour her like a hungry wolf. His hands were firm, but gentle; her panties dripped due to the proper groping. It was hard to contain the emotions welling up inside of her. It felt like some cosmic force was pulling her towards him as the two of them remained in the kitchen half dressed and horny. Though no magic existed in this world, by the time the evening ended, there would be.

Watching him fondle her chest with his sexy chest exposed created a different thirst in her that needed quenching. The dominating urge overcame her and she pulled him back to her in order to press their bodies together, not allowing any space between them above or below. Words were not necessary to tell him she was seeking some kind of release. Obviously a physical one, she forced her ankles to pull him tighter against her, eliciting a groan from both parties at the harder friction. Their skin tingled with the sensations as they drew out the inevitable and explored each others' mouths like it was their last night in this world. Becoming one was necessary and though they truly needed to pull apart and completely undress in order to find such a release, neither one of them budged. They just pawed one another like animals hard in heat, wanting to prolong the moment.

Sensing a need, Rumple snuck a hand between them and found her inhibited spot. She purred loudly that further sensation was given at his hand, though only a light tough to feel the wetness of her panties, that it was enough to cause a sighing cry. The brief touch of his fingers erupted a new volcano of lust and soon both of them were hard at meeting their most sensitive parts with clothed thrusts. She with only lace protecting her and him with an expensive pair of Armani pants he was sure to ruin if he allowed it. Instead, he suppressed the urge to spend himself and allowed her to enjoy their proper humping. With the freedom to do so, she started to grind harder against him, feeling his stiffness with every stimulating pulse. Rumplestiltskin could only watch as his wanton beauty rocked her hips against his, clinging desperately to him as she proceeded to take her pleasure from him. Nearing her first climax, she quickened her pace, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as the power took her. He could only hold her, letting her drive herself against him, watching her take certain liberties and tremble in its wake as she cried out in pleasure...

His trance was jarred as a very loud and abrupt knock was heard on his front door. Her eyes flew open, looking to him as she continued to grind, not wanting to terminate the pleasure before its undoing.

He gripped her waist tighter, thrusting against her harder, not breaking their connection, "Don't stop, darling! Take your pleasure, my love!" She nodded, throwing her head back in ecstasy as they ignored the second knock. After a few more seconds, Belle's body trembled, meeting its release and mouthing a cry as she clutched his body like a lifeline after coming apart by the mere sensation of his cock in his pants pressed up against her panties.

There wasn't enough time given for the bliss afterwards that Belle was gently nudging Rumple backwards in order to slip off the counter onto weak legs. They smiled at one another, knowing that they weren't truly alone, but that their evening was also not over. Proving so, she slipped her arms back into dress and buttoned a few buttons on his open dress shirt. Rumple watched on as she dressed both him and herself, before leaving feather-like kisses on his cheek.

"Why don't you see who is at the door, send them off and then come find me upstairs?" she asked, leaving the top two buttons undone.

With a slow smile he said, "I can do that."

She spun around where she stood and went around the kitchen counter, grabbing her little overnight bag on the way up the staircase. Rumple watched her until she disappeared upstairs before starting to walk towards the front door. He adjusted himself, knowing that there was only so much he could do after dry fucking a beautiful woman on his kitchen counter, so instead he just prepared a nasty greeting once he reached the door. He rounded the corner towards the foyer and saw a shadow of someone bobbing nervously behind his stained glass front door. Wishing he still had magic in order to turn this person into a snail and then crush him with his boot, he swung the front door open.

"Sir, I am here to make sure Miss Anna gets home safely," said Leo.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Warning.... you have been warned ;)

CH.5 --

There were some things, no many things, in Rumplestiltskin’s life that he regretted. In his many years, he had caused pain, suffering, killed and generally made peoples’ lives a living hell. On the other hand, one deal in particular that he made turned out to be the greatest thing to happen to him. 

A wealthy Lord of Avonlea needed to save his village of ogres that were attacking the frontlines as if they were nothing more than wheat in the fields to be cut down. They terrorized and killed, thought nothing of the lives they took and left sons motherless and daughters fatherless in their wake. A time that Rumplestiltskin remembered all too well in the first generation of the war that carried on the name as coward to his line. Still, in the deal he was trying to make with the Lord of Avonlea, a beautiful woman was seen in his shadow listening in as if she was equally a soldier in this battle. A pretty thing. She was unwed by the looks of her bravery and clutching a book to her chest as if it were a cherished talisman. A book he knew she had written her deepest thoughts and wishes in and should her castle turn to rubble around her, she wanted that book to die with her. 

How noble.

She was the chip to bargain with, not her overfed father that performed like her voice never mattered. Rumplestiltskin focused on her for a startling moment, wondering how brave she actually could be. He chose her as the price and though her father forbids it, hoping for another way, she stepped forward and accepted the deal. A deal that meant she would go with him forever, to his castle, until her end of days. The deal was struck, he emphasized. She never wavered.

That same brave woman, that same bargaining chip, that same beautiful creature that saved her village to run away with the beast was now waiting for him upstairs in his bedroom. She was not dragged, she was not tricked, and she was not enchanted, nor was that any part of the original deal struck in that war room. She had wielded a magic of her own; a magic of the heart. After time spent with him in his fortress, she began to look beyond the trophies, the baubles, the collection, and through the exterior of cursed skin and excellent fashion sense. She saw the man he used to be, the man that wanted to be a good mate and father, and reached out to him. He allowed those walls to come tumbling down, letting her in and relishing in the fortune that was worth more than any gold piece. She was his world, she was his heart and she would be next to him when he was reunited with his son where he would proudly present her to him. 

He had won her heart. He was chosen over a dashing knight that came to her rescue and as he limped to his front door, leaning on the cane a little less, he was not expecting the same knight to come knocking in the late hours of the evening in a snow storm.

“Sir, I have come here to make sure Miss Anna gets home safely,” the young knight in commoner’s clothing said. He swallowed nervously, his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders in the cold.

Mr. Gold took a deep bored breath and said, “Miss French will not need your protection for the evening, Mr. Chandler. I appreciate your gallantry and I will tell her you were here, but I assure you, she is safe.” 

“Mr. Gold, I don’t want Anna to have to drive home in this storm, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to-”

“I do mind,” Mr. Gold interrupted, finding the brisk air too chilly to stand there much longer with the top of his shirt still undone. He reckoned his appearance was a bit disheveled after his kitchen interlude and hoped that would send a message to this thick-headed buffoon. “I do mind and I would appreciate if you would not come knocking on my door at such a late hour. Miss French is perfectly safe here and will not need to travel in this weather.”

“Mr. Gold, it’s getting bad out there and-”

“Miss French will not be going home this evening and therefore, will not need an escort to ensure her safety. I suggest you make it a quick trip back to your own home, before the worst comes.”

“I don’t understand, why wouldn’t Anna be going back home?” he said with his hands pulling out of his pockets in query. He looked at Mr. Gold on the higher steps as if just presented with a puzzle to solve and unsure where to begin.

Mr. Gold would have rolled his eyes if he was about one hundred-fifty years younger, but at this stage in his life he felt pity for those that were that thick. “Mr. Chandler, I’m certain I do not need to spell it out for you, do I?”

“Sir?” he said with a blank stare.

Gold stepped down one step and leaned in as if he had a big secret to tell. Leo froze where he stood, both by nerves and by weather, waiting for the older man to explain. “Miss French will be staying the night, so might I express my gratitude when I say I appreciate your concern, but she’s chosen a different suitor.” Leo watched as his tricky words intertwined with comprehension and then very slowly started to become angry. “Good night, Mr. Chandler.” Gold retraced his one step and promptly shut the door on the young man’s face.

Overwhelming pride boost Gold’s confidence level and as he passed a mirror in the foyer, he looked at what the younger man saw. He saw a refined man without a tie, his top three buttons undone, tousled hair and then the icing on the cake: lipstick all over his collar. His chest swelled, his leg didn’t hurt so much and he found that he nearly bounced on the balls of his feet as he made his way to the stairs. Another triumphant battle won by the Dark One, besting the young knight. 

He was just about to take the first stair when his eyes glanced towards the dining room table. Upon it was a vase with two roses, sitting pretty and presenting themselves as an offering. Gold’s lips curved as he thought about the fond memory in his castle and decided to retrieve one of the flowers. 

The staircase to his bedroom door seemed to be the longest trek he had ever taken in his life. Step by step, a light thud was heard following next to him like a quiet announcement of his presence. He finally reached the last door on the left, the master bedroom, his bedroom. He stared at it for a few seconds, pondering the act that was potentially going to take place, trying not to count the decades that it had been for him since he felt such intimacy. He raised a hesitant hand and knocked lightly with his fore finger’s knuckle before turning the handle and entering.

The lighting was low in the room, only illuminated by the few candles he kept around out of habit. Leaving a soft hue about the room, it allowed him to see everything that he needed to. He could see his bed clearly, could see the walls dancing with shadows where the candles flickered and upon his bed was the most beautiful vision he had ever bestowed upon his own eyes. 

She sat upon his bed, her legs to the side beneath her, smiling and wearing a lilac colored nightgown with lace front and spaghetti straps. Her delicious soft thighs that he had taken the liberty of caressing were exposed under the satin and she waited for him as if she would wait forever. Gold paused in the doorway, still and barely breathing, for he believed if he were to actually exhale he might frighten her to run away.

“Something the matter, Rumple?” she asked innocently, but suggesting. Her head tilted just slightly, letting her long locks fall over her shoulder romantically.

It was on his third attempt that his voice surfaced and the result managed was very hoarse, “I always believed there was only one way to kill the Dark One.” Closing the door behind him, he placed a hand over his heart as he added, “Clearly, there is another way.”

She offered him a shy smile and glanced to the floor as she rose on her knees, beckoning him to come closer with a graceful gesture of her fingers. “Nonsense,” she whispered, willing him closer than he dared, “who was at the door?”

With a slight bow and subtle presentation that was a reminder of the old Rumplestiltskin, he flourished the rose he held behind his back. “Just an old woman selling flowers,” he said with a half smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. His little gesture did not go unnoticed and she accepted the rose sweetly with a smirk and partial little bow herself.

He straightened himself and tossed his cane to the floor of the far right side of the bed and ever so slowly, made his way to his beckoning lady that hid her face behind the delicate flower like the innocent she was playing to be. Little did she know, or maybe she did, the sensuality she was exuding filled his senses like heavy dense fog, forcing the bulge in his pants to tighten even more than it had downstairs in the kitchen. Her delicious curves were enough to make him salivate like a hungry wolf, wanting to devour every inch of her as it was so keenly displayed under form fitting satin.

Once he ventured close enough to his shy, meek beauty, limping only slightly due to the strength of his adrenaline, she surprised him by reaching for him first by the ends of his tie and tossing the rose to the floor. “But, I prefer you!” She gave him all of three seconds to react before kissing him with such furious passion she had kept cleverly disguised by deceptive innocence hidden behind her flower. 

At first, he was unsure where to place his hands. Instinct wanted to wrap them around her waist, feel her slender form pressed tightly against his, letting her know the power she wield over him, but a small part of him still felt like it was forbidden and he ungrateful. She was a beautiful noble woman and he the poor spinner turned dark, but none of their differences mattered when she was tearing away his tie and unbuttoning his shirt with demanding fingers. She nipped at his lips and slid her tongue to the roof of his mouth exploring him deeply, demanding he reciprocate.

She pulled away, her fingers still working their way down his shirt, and with skillful hands slid his waistcoat to the floor. The small victory of a garment removed felt euphoric, for he was like a present she was dying to open. She smoothed her hands over the contours of his chest, her mouth gaped at the sensation under her palms, feeling softer skin than she expected with very little hair. A man of many years, all wrapped up in a nice package with a brilliant mind and stories to tell, stood before her like the knight she never knew she wanted. Her eyes traveled to his face, touching his cheek gently, admiring the lines around his eyes that made him so very human to her. 

His pupils were black in the low lighting and they fixated on her like he was a coil about to spring. Smooth hands finally slid around her waist, his finger tips pressing into her hips and possessively pulling her tighter against him with a need of unbridled lust. His intentions seemed fierce, animalistic, but instead he leaned back into her with gentleness unexpected of a beast. He heard it in her quiet giggle. He trailed small kisses along her jaw, nipping every other lick, until he savored the taste of her skin below her earlobe, allowing the hint of her perfume to hypnotize him like magic mist in the air. He evoked small approving sounds from her, encouraging his lavish kisses to take their want, requesting that he take his desires from her as if she were a slave to be sacrificed. 

Her hands traveled back into his shirt and very carefully, worked it off his shoulders and down his arms, forcing him to release her only for a few moments as he dropped it to the floor with his waistcoat. Soft hands slid over his strong shoulders, down his biceps and to his wrists where his arms encircled her. Belle wanted to touch every inch of him, using her fingers as a guide, memorizing each limb and muscle she could reach. Beautiful to her eyes, her hands smoothed back over his chest, letting her nails rake lightly over sensitive skin and pinching a nipple as her fingertips found it. She heard him hiss and felt him nip her neck harder, teasing her for more. 

Her hands made his skin tingle wherever she touched, as if she was creating magic just from the palm of her hands. Gentle nails scraped him, bringing a stronger sensation to throw her down and fuck her madly, but he managed to restrain the urge, allowing his cock to twitch in his pants. His inner fire was ablaze and the scent of her own arousal was so intoxicating, that he could hardly wait to see her beautiful naked body sprawled below his and her face contort in ecstasy as he took his pleasure. His mind escaped him and for a moment, he could see her atop him, riding him madly as she threw her head back, shouting his name to the heavens...

...But, there was something that kept nagging him. 

Belle missed his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his soft hair, wanting his lips to play on hers again. At first it was soft and languid, but slowly burned hard and demanding, each trying to take dominance. Tongues slid together, lips nipped harder, panting breaths separated them as each drank into a thirst they didn’t know they were capable of. She tugged on his hair as he slid his hands over her rear, squeezing her harder against his groin, ghosting slight thrusts as if he was already inside of her.

Still, there was something that kept nagging him...even more this time.

A brave hesitant hand traveled along her hip over the flat of her stomach and rested on the outside of her breast where he sought permission to take such liberties once again. She sighed against his mouth and placed her own hand over the back of his, encouraging his exploration of her. He hesitated no longer and cupped her breast with a need to please her, rubbing a thumb over her nipple and eliciting a playful giggle. She nipped his lower earlobe, sighing heavily and whispering for him to touch her at his will. Her raking nails along his spine indicated that her tolerance for hard groping was high and she wanted more from him.

His hands sought bare flesh, so he looped his thumbs around the spaghetti straps of her nightgown in the hopes they would slide down easily. He managed to get halfway down her upper arms before she grasped his wrists, stilling them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, embarrassed he had pressed his boundaries. He should have known she needed to go at her own pace. 

She hushed him with a tsk of her tongue, “If you want to take this off of me...” He immediately lifted his head, looking into her dark blue eyes and seeing a teasing desire he had misunderstood; he gave a slight nod. “...then you have to take off your pants and lay down with me.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d guessed she had been practicing magic without him, for she wielded an unseen force that rendered him as still as he was from squid ink. Releasing his wrists, she pushed back and sat on her ankles, waiting for him to proceed with his own undressing, before she granted him complete permission to her own clothing. Her lips curved into that innocent smile that left him powerless, watching her like she was the Siren in Lake Nostos that would lure him to his death.

Still, that nagging thought kept his attention and as it finally surfaced, he realized that at this point, he could do nothing about it. His hands fell to his sides and his shoulders slumped feeling utterly defeated. He felt like someone had just shown him something incredible he could never have and with the idea of it about to slip from his fingers, he was truly distraught on the inside.

She waited for him ever so hopeful, but he was stiller than a statue and she inquired why. With a heavy heart, he managed a confession, “Belle, I haven’t any magic to prevent you...from becoming pregnant.”

Closing her eyes and licking her lips, she gave a subtle shake of her head. Rising to her knees, she slid her hands up along his chest and around his neck. Rather than extinguish the mood with a hearty discussion of modern science and the mechanics of “The Pill”, she kissed him sweetly. “Though there is plenty to do to one another without that, I’ve already taken care of it.” Her voice was soft and smooth like velvet as it purred through the room. Sliding a hand back down and between them, she gently rubbed against the stiffness hidden in his pants in order to make her point. “Trust me,” she whispered with a gentle squeeze that made his entire body tremble from her bold touch.

His cock twitched as her hand released him, desiring a further fondle at her own will. Tempting him thoroughly, she pushed away and lay back against the soft comforter of the bed, running her hands up along her hips and ribs. Bending her legs up, she offered him a subtle tease as she spread her legs just enough to encourage him with a peek of what secrets lay between them. The hem of her nightgown fell upwards, revealing the lacy panties he had only touched during their coupling in the kitchen and the partial cheek of a perfectly shaped bum could be seen at just the right angle as she moved. 

He was captivated by the beautiful young temptress, writhing about and offering him a glimpse of what was to...come. Admiring her where he stood, his fingers poised on his belt, not wanting to miss a single distraction. He watched as the very sound of his zipper excited her, for she bit her lip in a new way and her eyes were transfixed on his long slender fingers as they moved in a downward motion. As painful his undressing before her was, her eyes displayed nothing of disappointment and only the reflection of love and desire. She eyed him like a shiny new toy she wanted to play with and the feeling of being wanted was intoxicating. He was the most powerful man in all the realms, but as he stood there on display for her, his pants now to his ankles and clad only in silk boxers, he felt like the weak spinner he once was at the mercy of a goddess. 

It was no secret what she did to him, for his boxers tented between his legs and he caught her licking her lips at the very sight of it. With one knee poised on the bed, she reached out to help coax him on top of her and the need to feel their bodies together was overwhelming, Like a cosmic pull, he felt so compelled to lay with her, it could only compare to one's will of his dagger. 

He kept himself propped on his elbows as he settled down over her. Her legs slid open further to accommodate him, looping her ankles behind his knees pressing him closer. He let out a heavy sigh and ghosted kisses against her neck when their cores met knowing he was only moments away from actually entering her. He assessed his frame against hers knowing that they would fit perfectly like two puzzle pieces once they were freed of their clothed restraints. 

The burning desire that melted inside of him like a decadent dessert left in the hot basking sun was to lick every single inch of her. He would work his way down, prolonging the moments of reaching her toes by slowing somewhere in the middle where he could taste the skin of her inner thigh and take in the delicious taste of her center. He knew he was going to be bad, so very, very bad for their first time and he could only hope that Belle preferred is darker side in that nature.

As soon as she felt the thinness of their sheathing and the weight of his body against her, it was only a matter of time before she could shimmy out of her panties, free him of his boxers and let him take his pleasure of her like she fantasized. The way he blanketed her body made her feel safe and whole; their bodies already fitting well. Hitching her leg up higher, she applied a little pressure behind his thighs, forcing him to press his stiffness harder against her. The result initiated a very lavish kiss that was free and without inhibition. She bit his lower lip, ran her tongue along his teeth and sighed against his mouth as if he was already inside of her. She ran her hands along his bare back, feeling the muscles shift and move beneath her touch. Her embrace tightened and her nails dug into his skin as their kiss intensified, along with the subtle thrusting of strong hips against her.

"I want to feel you inside of me," she moaned, her breath catching as her heart started to race. 

His kisses stilled around her ear and he let out a sound that could only be compared to a low growl. He nipped her earlobe and whispered gravely, "In good time, dearie. So much to taste until then."

Her body trembled with anticipation beneath him, wanting so badly to feel the release she had worked herself up for. She wanted to be drilled, she wanted to be rocked hard, she wanted a good, hard fucking from this man that wore Armani suits around Storybrooke as if they were a second skin, oozing sensuality like a god given right. Instead, she would have to wait. 

She ran her fingers through his soft hair, jutting out her chest and directing him to where she wanted to be touched. With a surge of confidence, his lips trailed beneath her chin, along her neck and over the fabric of her nightgown where her nipples peaked under the soft material. He grazed his teeth ever so lightly against one, eliciting a purr as he applied gentle pressure. Her hand tangled tighter into his tresses and she pressed the back of his head, wanting more of the sensation and desiring a harder bite. He obliged and laved up the second one, nipping it harder than the first, making the fabric nice and wet. His hips sunk harder against her, proceeding to enhance his ministrations while attempting to restrain a moan from the back of his throat. 

The heat from his breath against the moist fabric over her nipples sent warm sensations to her lower regions. Her panties already wet from the stimulation, he was causing electric currents to travel along her nerves to reach out to him, cradle him and make love to him for the entire duration that this euphoric feeling continued. His teeth were gentle, but demanding against her tender peaks; his tongue quick like a chameleon teasing her at each breath. His hands traveled everywhere around her, exploring her curves and allowing a preview to where he would travel next, pinching and squeezing any new area he'd found. Her nightgown had risen up to her waist and his warm hands had already reached beneath it to trace circles over her bare stomach with his slender fingers. 

With a gentle nudge, Belle managed to roll herself atop of him and sit up on his waist. She straddled him, keeping their intimate parts touching, and began to slowly rub herself over his hardness. His eyes slid closed and let out a groan that was nearly inhuman as he pressed his head against the pillows. She smirked triumphantly, taking pleasure in the friction she was causing between them while rubbing her hands all over his torso, taking the liberty of pinching his own nipples, eliciting a hiss under his tongue. 

He opened his eyes to see her writhing against him without restraint, forcing his hardness to meet her barrier behind thin cotton and silk. As her body moved, her breasts bounced beautifully and her lip was bitten hard over the sensations. She tossed her head back, whimpering in pleasure for each thrust of her hips. 

"Sweetheart," he panted, finding the strength to still her with a gentle pinch on her hips, "you could undo me by just doing what you're doing."

Her eyes slowly slid open as if waking from a deep heavy trance and looked down upon him as if he were her prey to be captured. Gold's black heart stopped; her beautiful face outlined that of a predator on the prowl and she his very willing victim. This aroused him more and with an attempt to get even with her devouring appeal, he tightened his grip and lifted his hips for one more thrust against her center, forcing her out of her reverie. 

She "awoke" to his playfulness and leaned over to capture his lips. As she leaned back up, her fingers moved to the bottom hem of her nightgown and very slowly began to peel it upwards. Gold watched painfully. With a subtle tease, her eyes never left his, but his left hers to see what she was revealing. First, her panties were uncovered, displaying the lacy undergarments she had meant for only him to see, followed by the slim contours of her belly, over her ribs and with pausing just a second to keep him enraptured, she slipped it up over her head. Her wavy chestnut tendrils fell over her shoulders, her supple breasts bounced slightly as she discarded the nightgown off the side of the bed. Displaying herself freely to him, she watched as his eyes feast upon so much bare skin as if overwhelmed with her offering.

Belle was always beautiful to him, but seeing her like this, submitting herself to the erotic gods that allowed them to couple was more than he could have imagined. Many nights in his Dark Castle he lied awake, thinking of her just a few rooms away from his, wondering if she could ever be swayed to tolerate the likes of him. Their kiss by his wheel had torn them apart. He didn't trust her, he thought she was tricking him, he believed her to be dead and to this day, she always remained the love of his life. His True Love. Now, she sat upon him, wearing only a thin piece of cotton and presenting herself to him as if she were a slave to have his way with.

Belle studied his face. The small lines around his eyes were more pronounced, his brow furrowed and his mouth was upturned into that of concern. He was silent and still for a few seconds and after all these years, she knew what he was thinking: he felt ungrateful. Such a beautiful man deep down, cursed for many years living a life of solitude, it all called to her like a beacon wanting to help him, nurture him and love him. 

His silence and look of ungratefulness compelled her to lean over him, letting her hair fall like curtains around their faces. "I want you to touch me everywhere, Rumple," she said as if commanding him with the power of his dagger. No sooner had the words left her mouth was he leaning up and placing his mouth over her nipple where his tongue finally made real contact. She hissed at the touch, running her fingers through his hair and pulling him harder against her, not wanting him to stop. She threw her head back in the rush, glancing down only momentarily to see him suckling on her like a babe, tasting and laving her up like a man who had never tasted anything so decadent in his life. “Yes, Rumple, yes,” she encouraged, feeling his hands smoothing over her back. “Bite them,” she whispered, revealing her secret turn on. He did as he was told and applied pressure to each one as he went back and forth, not wanting to neglect the other. “Your mouth feels so good!”

He was a man empowered, a man on a mission and a horny man to please her beautiful soft young body, pulling out every skill he'd acquired by experience, reading and observation. She clung to him like a buoy in the ocean, moaning with a vocal song of an angel as she called to the Gods above them while thrusting her hips in her own rhythm, desiring further stimulation. His wanton little librarian clawed at his back, stole kisses between breasts and whispered colorful encouragements.

After nearly worshipping her breasts for what felt like decades, he rolled her onto her back where he could continue his ministrations while exploring her further. A rogue hand slid over her flat belly and crept between her legs where her cotton panties felt moist and wet. He slid a forefinger between her lips, outlining her feminine shape. She cooed at his touch and slowly raised her hips from the bed. His fingers slowly slid under the elastic of her panties, feeling her skin and realizing nothing had felt so nice, for she was more than just slick, she was... “Belle,” he called with a hoarse voice, “are you bare?”

Sighing at the anticipation that his fingers would soon be thoroughly touching her needy spot, she nodded against the pillows, enraptured by their softness. "Yes," she whispered, "it's a popular custom in this world.” She purred as his fingers slid between her folds through her slickness, closing her eyes and tugging on his straight locks. “Do you like it?”

A man with an incredible vocabulary by reading nearly every book in the universe had nothing to say that would equate to the sheer joy of touching such softness. It was bliss, it was heaven and he couldn’t wait to see it for himself and perhaps taste her sweetness in its barest of forms. He glanced up, nearly ready to come to his climax with just the imagery of her bare pussy, continuing to slide his finger over and through her folds like a man with zero inhibition of touching this woman. He managed to tear himself away from kissing every bit of her bare skin above the waist for a moment to meet her lips with a heavy answer. 

“I am definitely not unhappy,” he practically growled, his voice having difficulty finding him. “You feel... decadent.” She cooed at his response, thrusting her hips just slightly for him to touch her more. 

And touch her he did. His fingers slid between her slickest parts, cherishing the feeling of her bare layers and working her up very very slowly. Belle was a goddess to him, both in heart and form and though he could not be her stereotypical prince, she would forever be his princess and treat her as such. She was a dessert to be savored, feeling every crevice and curve her precious pussy had, he would commit it to memory, never forgetting what she felt like for his first time touching her so intimately. Pure of heart and truly loving him, he needed to show her that she was more than just his world. She was his universe and if he only had this one night with her (though he truly doubted that by how much she was tugging his hair, scratching his back with her nails, and whispering his name) he would make them both cry out and thank the heavens they were united.

His fingers gently explored each soft wet ridge and crevice, committing it to memory and listening to the tempo of her shallow breathing, making note which area was most sensitive. It started as a slow circular massage, allowing him to feel her through, sliding over one lip, and then the next until his fingers were incredibly slick with her desire. With minimal effort, the tips of his fingers found her precious little button and by the hitch in her breath, knew that she was piqued at her arousal and all nerves were focused on that one small spot. Very slowly, he circled her small nub, tripping his finger over and over it, until he saw her gasping for breath. Subconsciously, her legs widened further for him, wishing to grant him complete access to her body as her chest heaved and her soft voice cooed. Her hips shifted slightly, pushing up off the mattress in order to initiate a thrust of some sort. Her hands slid over his upper arms, squeezing them to show her intensity and then sliding over her own breasts in order to caress herself into her oblivion. 

He watched like a voyeur as her own fingers circled around her nipples, pinching them and then arching her back into the bliss he helped create. She was luscious with her fine curves and soft skin, nearly making him melt at the sight. He couldn’t help but be selfish and leaned over to nudge her hand away with his nose in order to take a nipple into his own mouth. Her hand moved into his hair and she encouraged him further as his tongue darted out and laved her peaks, giving both breasts equal attention. 

She sought out his lips, wanting to taste them as she endured the slow burn in the pit of her stomach starting to rise. Never had she been touched so intimately by someone else, for only her own fingers had been able to find her most sensitive nub. His name fell as a whisper from her lips, pressing him close and arching her back as her orgasms came in strong rolling waves. 

"Yes, yes, Rumple! Right there... right there... ahhhhh...." she whimpered, running her fingers through his soft hair. She moaned to the heavens, her cries unleashed, and he lifted his head to watch her reaction as she came. 

"Yes, sweetheart," he encouraged, watching her body convulse and shiver as the force took her over. She was delicious as her breasts heaved and her body stretched. Like an unwilling victim he had seen at his hand before in other situations, she opened her eyes to him begging him not to stop. He wanted Belle to want him, he wanted her to want him to make her come and just when she thought she was about to find some relief and be able to come down from the spiral, he ever so cleverly slid a single finger up inside her slit. She widened further, moaning her appreciation and letting her head fall back upon the pillows. "You feel so tight, Belle. So, perfect," he growled in a low gritty voice. He felt so powerful. 

She opened her eyes slowly, lost in the euphoria, and offered a grateful smile. She felt incredible, all her nerves were tingling, and as he moved his finger inside of her slowly testing his limits she shifted against his hand for more. What he was doing to her was far more than she'd ever felt from a man before, because God knows all Gaston/Leo knew how to do was jerk himself off and then “stick it inside her”. The Dark One was pleasing her in ways she'd only known possible between lovers: the will to please the other one and he was most definitely someone that wanted to please. 

After a few more steady pulses, Gold added another finger and then flipped his wrist upside down to curve his fingers upwards, hitting a fresh new spot that was evident she did not know of. Her body curled and straightened by his hand and she reached out to pull on the surrounding bedclothes for support. Her fingers curled around the fabric, spreading her legs further and pressing her hips up to meet his hand, allowing him to properly finger fuck her.

"Oh, Rumple! That....oh-oh...there...you're hitting, oh my...oh my!" she managed, reaching out for the surrounding pillows for support, closing her fists tightly into them as she cried out high pitched coos. 

She couldn't help but arch her hips in order to meet his hand; the sensation was unreal. She praised him, called for him, and even demanded that he slow his ministrations in order for her to catch herself. He ignored her pleas and continued to pulse inside of her, determined to make her come again, but harder.

She did and with valiant praise. With minimal strength, she managed to sneak a hand down between her legs, squeezing his in a silent appreciation. He was being so good to her that even the greatest of skills acquired through limited experience and copious amounts of reading how to perform good oral would not thank him for what he just performed on her.

The sound of Belle's exhausted panting filled the room as her muscles finally started to relax. Her eyes slid closed and the ringing in her ears was finally beginning to silence. As he slid his fingers out of her dripping wet sex and out of her panties, she felt the bed shifting. Opening one eye, she saw that he was finally removing the silk boxers he wore, using the darkness of the room and her distraction of the afterglow to cloak him. To her advantage, the candles that still burned allowed enough light to permit a healthy glimpse of his fine large member being liberated from its high quality confines. Smiling to herself, she hummed her contentment, pleased she would be feeling him very soon. 

His hands slid up her thighs, squeezing gently, kneading her carefully until his fingers met the fabric of her panties. Very slowly, like unveiling a long awaited present, he peeled them down over her sex, down her thighs, over her knees and finally off of her ankles. He tossed the garment off to the side and finally took in the heavenly sight before him, memorizing the way her slender thighs curved around her apex. She was perfection waiting to be sculpted as she lay there in the nude before him and as her eyes opened to meet his feasting on her like a hungry wolf, she outstretched her arms beckoning him. He obeyed like the lure of his dagger and kissed her sultry lips like he had many times before, but savoring this particular moment different than all the others as their naked skin touched. Very slowly, he worked his way along her jaw, down her neck, between her breasts, and licking her naval as he slid his tongue in a trail towards it. His hands pushed her legs apart and he shimmied down between them.

The scent of her arousal was intoxicating and if he could bottle it up for his own purposes, he certainly would. She was sheer beauty, noble beauty and he had never seen anything so erotic than to have her lay there willingly before him. He felt her hand pat his head, running her fingers to the tips of his messy wisps that guarded his face, wanting to show him some kind of affection for what he was about to do and what he had just finished doing for her. When their eyes met, he was immediately lost. The minimal candle light provided limited ability to see the other, but it was enough to display the emotions they were sharing together as they experienced this. He kissed her open palm and with a half smirk to her, looked down at his task at hand: her perfect glistening pussy. His hard cock pressing into the mattress lurched painfully, knowing the moment was inevitable, but first, the martyr in him wanted to prolong the act in order to partake in a very selfish gesture.

It was because of him and his ability to make her come that her center was wet. Her bare lips glistened, beckoning to him like a fine dessert. He had felt her insides, had furiously flicked her clit and finally worked his way down to his target and without further reserve leaned down to take a slow luxurious lick between her shining folds.

“Rumple!” her voice cried out. The mere shock of the sensation sent Belle reeling and she immediately reached out to claw the sheets around her, arching her back at the warm comforting sensation. “Yes, please,” she whispered, ashamed of herself for taking pleasure in such a raunchy act. She’d only read about the act in her books, never knowing what kind of deep thrill it would contain, but after feeling it for the first time, she was hooked. 

Gold nuzzled his nose closer to her sensitive swollen bud where his fingers had only been, taking in her deliciously salty scent. His tongue darted out again and licked her from bottom to center like a dripping dessert. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair, scratching his scalp and encouraging him to do more. Without a second longer, he obliged and slowly began to lap at her in such a manner, he felt incredibly unworthy of performing such a service to her. Someone else should be worshiping her as she deserved, someone else better than him with a pure heart should be tasting her desires and someone younger and more handsome should be taking her in their bed like a nobleman. Instead, she had chosen him. A humble crippled spinner with an ex-wife who never loved him and a son he let go. She was his salvation, she made him a better man, she brought out the good in him he had pushed away for so long and right now, she was making him as hard as a plank of wood with her moaning!

His tongue took its liberties and just like his fingers before him, he worked her up slowly, testing her speeds and pressure points, until he was fucking her with his tongue. His fingers assisted him, pressing deep inside of her as he lapped at her sensitive bud with hypnotized madness; he felt he would never get enough of her bare soft pussy. He couldn’t wait to let his cock feel her velvety passage bringing them both to climax and, if allowed, coming deep inside of her. He almost didn’t hear her pleas to slow down to allow her to rest, for he plunged on wanting her to spin out of control at his control. 

“Just....let me...please, I can’t...,” she begged, not wanting him to stop, but the sensation was almost too difficult to endure without feeling like she was going to explode. She wanted to save some of her energy for when they were united, but felt like she wasn’t going to last that long. She wasn’t fighting him, for the sheer torture was worth it and as he nibbled and licked and sucked on her clit, she finally allowed her body to unwind from the buildup and came hard against his hot mouth and swift tongue. “Rumple!” she panted, grabbing his hair and forcing him to keep going in order to ride it out. “I’m going to come... I’m going to come hard! Rumple...YES! Ahhhhhh.....” 

Belle slammed her eyes shut and saw fireworks behind her eyelids, spiraling high and then falling and falling, feeling her body betray her and grant her the hard euphoric release once again. She felt like a rushing dam, letting her inhibitions go and welcoming the warm licking sensation between her thighs. Her shoulders pressed against the mattress, her hips jutting up against his mouth and she mewed like a cat in heat. Her toes tingled, her knees shook and with a final triumphant growl, felt the vibrations of Rumple humming against her mound. With a physical sigh, she allowed her body to relax and Rumple’s fingers pulled out of her slowly.

Her silence rendered by soft panting thanked him for making her experience something so wonderful. He closed his own eyes and kissed the palm of her outstretched hand, letting his lips linger against it for a long time. She was drunk of him and wanted nothing more than for the two of them to finally unite. 

“Rumple, I need you,” she requested, reaching with both arms and coaxing him to lay against her body with the little strength she could muster.

He followed through, crawling above her, but not settling, just looking down at the beautiful young princess beneath him. His cock dangled perfectly between his legs as he propped himself up on his knees gazing down at her. She tried to pull him against her, but he was stubborn and hesitated. He was prolonging their exchange, but cautious to allow them such tranquility. 

“What’s wrong, Rumple?” she asked when she saw the concerned look on his face. She placed a hand against his cheek and looked at up imploringly, “Please, take me.”

“I don’t want to ruin you,” he said, looking deep into her soul. “But, I want to come inside of you.”

“Yes, please!” she moaned in anticipation. Her legs wrapped around his waist in order to force him down against her; the teasing was too much to handle. “Trust me, we’re protected. Now, please take your pleasure!”

His lips turned up slowly, “Oh, I have been.” He lowered himself against her, letting his cock press against her opening, but not penetrating. “Watching you unravel has brought me such gratification, that I could come by the sound of your moan. You’re positively radiant as you feel ecstasy.”

“Rumple...” she whispered against his ear as she slid a hand between them to touch his hard cock pressing against her opening. 

The second her soft hand grasped his member and gave a slow stroke, he nearly lost it. With one swift move, he stilled her wrist and raised it up over her head against her pillow, “I’ll come undone-”

“Good!” she whispered, biting the air with her teeth at him like a restrained animal. She wanted him to feel the torture as she did and wiggled beneath him, crossing her ankles and using her strength to pull his waist tighter against her. 

He chuckled low in his throat and placed a kiss against her ear, “You can touch me tomorrow, my love. Right now, I just want to slide into your warmth.” 

She trembled beneath him as he reached to adjust himself at her entrance. As his tip was already moistened from her own wetness, he slowly slid inside of her. Her breath caught against his ear and she bit down on the skin of his shoulder as he pushed further meeting his limit within her. She accommodated him nicely, like a warm hot glove, bringing him comfort and tranquility one could only fantasize about. Once inside, he pulled back out half way in order to enter further, causing another gasp from her and a low moan from him. Tight and perfect, her body welcomed him as he worshipped her temple, clutching to one another like their lives depended on it. 

“So good, Belle. So very, very good,” he murmured against her neck, trailing wet kisses along her neck in forgiveness should he have caused any discomfort. He felt so ungrateful to be enjoying her in this manner. 

“Yes, Rumple,” she whispered to him, repeating his name and loving declarations on nearly every other thrust. 

They started at a slow pace for quite awhile, cherishing each thrust as if it were a dream. Clinging tightly to him, her fingernails left half moon indents against the skin of his back as she thrust her hips to meet him. He kissed her freely, sometimes soft and sometimes with animalistic passion, desperate to hear her begging for him. He trailed his kisses below her neck, marking her above the collarbone, making her his from here on out. A hand came up to tug on his hair when she felt the pleasurable pain of his teeth against her, willing him for more that he could give. He thrust harder, widening her as best he could and going even deeper. She lifted her knees higher, giving him the leverage he needed to succeed for the both of them, taking him in as far as she could, moaning her appreciation. 

He quickened his pace as he felt his climax building, while her body began to tremble in its impending orgasm. He watched her with dark hungry eyes as she threw back her head and opened her mouth in a silent cry, feeling her muscles contracting around him. She cried out to the heavens as she reached for him, hanging on as she came for the fourth time that evening. He drove his cock hard within her, hastening his speed as he met her orgasm, allowing her body to pump him for his own release. He thrust harder as she clung to him, wanting him to feel the way her body quaked because of his doing. 

She kissed his ear softly and whispered, "My magnificent beast!" With fireworks behind his own eyes, muscles tensing, and growls releasing, he spilled himself over spoken words, filling her with everything he had. His hips ground hard on their final thrusts, pressing her far into the mattress as she welcomed his weight, his strength, and the passion he offered. Never had he experienced such a release and never had he felt so loved while doing it. He came hard, spouting off like a faucet, emptying his seed into the blank void she claimed to be at the present time. His eyes slammed shut, white sparks went off and his head was reeling when he finally came to a dramatic collapse atop the woman he loved.


End file.
